


Reborn from the ashes of Hate

by AkashaKushrenada



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nazi and Jew, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-14 04:51:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 85,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11200800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkashaKushrenada/pseuds/AkashaKushrenada
Summary: World War II AUIt always happens eventually, all Jews break in concentration camps under Nazi control. But Kyle wasn't about to let that happen. After his family was captured by the Nazi soldiers, Kyle vowed to always keep hope alive and keep his family together.Of course Cartman isn't about to let that happen. His own vow is to break Kyle so there was no hope left. But damnit why did he have to learn how to dance?!|| I suck at summaries. Just your normal enemies, to friends, to lovers with lots of angst and fluff. Creek undertones.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Obviously I own zero of South park and claim none of it. If I did a certain couple would be canon!

_||“The dreams are gone, midnight has come, the darkness is our new kingdom,”||_

_May 26th, 1944_

A boy’s 21st birthday is supposed to be a celebration, a joyous day celebrating another milestone of a boy’s ascension into manhood. This day is meant to be full of smiles, laughs, homemade food, music and dancing. But then that was for normal boys, normal families in this time. Kyle Broflovski was not considered normal and neither was his family, at least according to the Third Reich and its leader, Adolf Hitler. The family was Jewish, and in this time it was a crime to be said Jew, and from rumors around Germany it meant a death sentence. So instead of celebrating his 21st birthday like normal boys his age, Kyle Broflovski and his family spent this day in hiding, just like the birthday the year before.

Kyle sighed as he rested his back against a wooden pillar. Just how many more birthdays would they spend in hiding? How many more days, how many more months could he remain in hiding until he possibly went insane? With each sunrise came a blessing, a blessing his family and he were still alive, but each day also came with fear and anxiety. Would this be the day? Would today be the day they were finally caught and taken away to some camp? To their deaths? There were so many rumors around Germany, so many rumors that inflicted fear in the hearts of all Jews.

Day by day, night by night, the Jewish family lived in fear. Fear so deep that they practically jumped out of their skin at anything and everything that made a sound. The mice that scurried across the barn, the grazing of the livestock around the farm, even the wind frightened them when it was unexpected. That’s where the Broflovski family was hidden now, in a barn on some farmland in the countryside.

The farm belongs to a childhood friend of Kyle’s and his family, The Stotch; Stephen, Linda, and their son Leopold, but all the kids called him Butters. While the Stotch family was of pure German descent, they never agreed with the ideology of the Third Reich. The family knew that what was happening was wrong, and thus without hesitation took Kyle and his family into hiding. Originally the Marsh family offered to take them in first, but that was a way too obvious move since their son was Kyle’s super best friend as far back as Kindergarten, Stan Marsh. Kyle was eternally grateful for the Stotch family’s generosity and compassion, thanks to them they had been safe for over a year in hiding. While the conditions were nowhere near perfect, they still had their lives and that was what mattered most of all.

Kyle’s eyes found his younger brother and watched him as he tried to make a hat out of straw; there wasn’t much else to do. He wondered if his brother knew today was his birthday, for that matter if his mother and father knew? Not that they would intentionally forget, but since going into hiding it was so easy to lose track of time. The days, the weeks, even the hours seem to mesh together. It was a miracle Kyle even knew what today was.

“Kyle, come here my son,” Gerald Broflovski called from atop his straw bench in a corner of the barn.

“Yes papa?” Kyle asked once he stood before his father. Gerald reached into his coat pocket to withdraw an item and held it out for Kyle.

“Happy Birthday, my son.” In Gerald’s hand was a hand crafted dreidel, he had probably carved it from the wood laying around the barn. “I only wish I could give you more.” Kyle shook his head and cradled the dreidel against his chest.

“It’s perfect papa, thank you,” and it was, for Kyle, it was more sentimental than anything. Not only had his father remembered his birthday, which he could have cared less about to begin with, but the gift he had made Kyle came from his Jewish background. It was as though his father was telling him to always be proud of his heritage, even during these tough times, _especially_ during these tough times.

“Stay proud Kyle, always proud and humble.” Kyle nodded to his father’s words.

“Of course papa,” and their eyes met in a promise, a promise to never give up, never give in to despair and to never surrender their true selves. They were a proud people and would always remain so. Gerald smiled proudly, stood and embraced his son. No words were exchanged, but they didn’t need them.

Just as father and son pulled away, Kyle felt tugging on his hip. Kyle looked down to his teenage brother Ike. Since hitting puberty Ike had definitely grown in height but Kyle was still taller and knew he always would be. “What is it, Ike?”

“Dance with me Kyle,” a simple request, but a request that shook Kyle to the core.

“Ike, have you lost your mind? We need to stay quiet remember,” Kyle snapped without meaning to, his eyes wide.

“We can be quiet and dance. Please Kyle, as a birthday gift to yourself, I know you miss it.” So Ike remembered it was his birthday too. _Damn him._ Kyle stood frozen as he looked down at his baby brother, his heart racing in his chest. Yes, he missed dancing, oh he missed dancing with every fiber of his being. Before the Jews went into hiding, while Kyle was still in school, he was a dancer, a wonderful dancer from what he was told by his classmates and teachers. Dancing was one of the only times Kyle felt himself, felt whole and complete. Yes he missed it, god he missed it.  
“Ike we can’t,” again he protested against his brother.

“Go on Kyle, please just this once,” came his mother’s voice from behind him, she sat down next to his father on the straw bench. “Put a smile on our face again, please, Kyle,” Kyle bit his lip. Now how in the hell could he say no when his mother put it like that?

“I won’t ask ever again Kyle, please,” Ike again pleaded. Kyle wasn’t at all sure why his family insisted on him dancing, and everything inside him told him not to, but how could he resist his family's pleas; especially if it would make his family smile in these troubled times.

“Ok Ike, but just this once,” Kyle placed his dreidel on the ground and joined his brother in the middle of the barn. Kyle knew several different styles of dance, whereas his brother knew only Jewish step dances they normally dance to during certain celebrations.

Kyle and Ike joined hands and began to step in rhythm to a song, a silent song created between them from their steps. The dance had no name, if anything it would be categorized as freestyle. They stepped, twirled, swayed, jumped, back and forth, side to side; there was no technique and Kyle was more than ok with that. “See Kyle, isn’t this fun?” Ike said with a smile as Kyle twirled him. Kyle’s heart ached at the word “fun”. It seemed too foreign, so forbidden.

“Yes Ike,” Kyle agreed without any real meaning behind it.

“Come on Kyle, faster,” Ike said with a giggle as he challenged his brother. Kyle realized what he was doing, this wasn’t just to make his family happy, but to make Kyle happy also. _This kid._ With that Kyle indeed quickens his pace in the steps, almost turning it into a ballroom quick step; which of course Ike had no idea how to do but did his best to keep up.

“Don’t trip over your feet, little brother,” Kyle said with a genuine smile while he practically drug his brother across the barn in a fast pace step. Ike laughed, Kyle smiled, and their parents clapped as quietly as their hands would allow. Kyle became lost in the dance, as he usually did when he would perform before he went into hiding. For a brief moment Kyle remembered what it felt like to be free, to be happy, to express yourself in a way that made you feel complete. But that brief moment abruptly ended by clapping that came from no Broflovski.

Fear stretched its way across the barn, the family of four all seemed to hold their breath and their blood ran cold, all their faces paled as their wide eyes found the entrance to the barn and landed on several Nazi soldiers. “Very, very lovely performance, what’s the celebration? Is it someone’s birthday?” the soldier who stood in the middle of the line said with a twisted smile. His hair was short and brown, eyes were amber and his body structure was on the heavy side; his body stance gave off authority, authority that if disobeyed would result in cruel retribution. Then again, what Nazi didn’t?

Kyle pulled his brother behind him, and Gerald stood in front of his wife; they knew it was over but their natural instinct to protect their family kicked in. The head Nazi stepped into the barn, his hands gripped together behind his back. “I asked you a question, Jews, or are you all hard of hearing? Perhaps deaf?” he said in a mocking manner. The Nazi approached Kyle and Ike, if it was possible their skin paled even more and Kyle wondered if the Nazi could hear his heartbeat; he could definitely feels Ike’s through their still joined hands. The family couldn’t speak for in the moment the fear was too much. “How about you kid?” The Nazi suddenly grabbed Ike by the arm and yanked him away from his brother in a swift motion and held a gun to his head.

“No please! It’s me, It’s mine,” Kyle stuttered not realizing if his words made any sense for he spoke them too quickly. The Nazi tilted his head in an irritated manner.

“Your what, Jew?” he asked sternly. Kyle took a deep breath and held his head high, but inside he felt ashamed. This Nazi didn’t need to know what today is, he didn’t have that right; but what choice did he have?

“It’s my birthday.” At his admission the Nazi seemed amused, almost as if it was his birthday instead.

“Well, Happy Birthday, Jew,” and with that he threw Ike into the line of soldiers. “Seize them,” he ordered his men who quickly stormed into the barn and took the family into custody, all at gunpoint. “And search the barn, more rats could be hiding in the hay,” the soldiers grabbed nearby pitchforks and began to stab all the barrels of hay. Of course they found no more people, but they had to do their job.

When the Broflovski’s were forced out of the barn they saw more soldiers coming towards them, forcefully pulling three people in tow; The Stotch family. “Captain Cartman, we found them in the house.”

Kyle was sure that his heart would give out at any minute from how fast it was beating. His emerald eyes met his friends blue and in that brief moment all Kyle could convey was regret, regret that this family sheltered them at their own risk and now they were caught. This was their fault and now who knew what price they had to pay. But while Kyle showed regret, Butters did not, in fact Butters didn’t even show fear. Butters only smiled weakly at his friend as if to say he was sorry. Sorry that he couldn’t protect his friend and his family. It seemed to Kyle that Butters knew what was to come, but only thought of Kyle; Butters had always been so selfless.

“Harboring Jews is a crime against Germany, didn’t you people know this?” the Nazi captain known as Cartman said while approaching the family. Cartman sighed and looked down at Butters. “Such a shame,” he said with pity as he noticed Butters blonde hair and blue eyes.  
“You would be a valuable asset to the Aryan race and yet you waste yourself associating with Jews? Pathetic,” Cartman eyed Butters as if daring him to speak out, but he didn’t. Instead Butters held his head high and stood with his back straight as if he was proud of the lives he helped to protect. Sometimes not speaking, was just as powerful as a speech itself; this seemed to be one of those moments to Cartman for he became irritated when Butters didn’t respond. “Lock his parents in the barn!” Cartman suddenly ordered and without missing a beat the soldiers did as commanded.

“What about the boy, sir?” the soldier who held Butters asked.

“Restrain him, someone will have to take care of this farm after his parents are gone,” realization dawned on Butters.

“What?! No! No mom! Dad!”

“Gag him!” Cartman ordered with venom and the soldier pulled a handkerchief from his jacket and wrapped it around Butters mouth and tied it tight behind his head to muffle the screams. “Burn it down!” the Nazi soldiers grabbed jars lined with rags and alcohol from their trucks, lit the rags and quickly threw them into the windows of the barn.

Butters was kicking and screaming until he finally fell to his knees and wept for his parents as the barn went a blaze. “Get the Jews in the trucks and let's go, this detour has made us late,” Kyle and his family were forced into the back of military trucks, Kyle didn’t even have a chance to look back at Butters, didn’t have a chance to thank him but he knew the other boy knew.

The trucks left behind them a burning barn, a broken family, a burned dreidel, and a broken dream. For in this moment Kyle knew that he would never dance again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I haven't written a fanfic since I was in high school, almost ten years ago. Eek! But my passion for this ship has just gotten so strong that I just had to write something for them. I fell in love with the premise of the WWII AU right from the get go. I have only found and read two and just loved, absolutely loved the idea. So here is my own and I hope you like it.  
> Huge shout out to my wifey who has been a phenomenal support as my Beta and my personal motivation.  
> Let me know what you guys think so far ^_~


	2. Chapter 2

_||"Hold on to this lullaby, even when the music’s gone,”||_

If hours went by since his family was captured and thrown into the back of a military truck he had no idea; it could have just been minutes for all he knew. But in this moment time was completely irrelevant and the last thing on his mind. While Kyle sat in the back of the truck with his family, all he could do was curse himself and his own stupidity. How could he have been so careless? Why did he ever agree to dancing with his brother when he should have followed his gut which screamed at him not to? It was the first time in over a year that he let his guard down and his family paid the price; not to mention Butters family.

The Jew had to bite his bottom lip to stop it from trembling at the thought of the price his friend had paid. These heartless Nazi bastards locked them in a burning barn with no escape. How could human beings do such a thing? The only answer that Kyle could come up with was that they weren’t human, but monsters, heartless and soulless monsters. ‘Butters I’m so sorry, please be ok,’ he silently prayed, for his friends fate was unknown.

Kyle sighed deeply while he rubbed his face in his hands and then pushed his curly red hair back out of his pale face. “I don’t regret it,” came his brothers whispered words from his side. Kyle raised his head in quick alarm. “The dancing I mean,” Ike specified.

“Ike, how can you say that? Didn’t you see what happened?” If it wasn’t for their situation, and the Nazi soldiers just feet away in the front of the truck, Kyle would be screaming.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t sorry,” Ike quietly snapped with venom Kyle never knew he could possess. Looking down at his brother Kyle understood just from the look in his brothers eyes. Yes, Ike regretted what happened to the Stotch family just as much as Kyle, perhaps even more because he was the one to suggest dancing in the first place; that one decision would surely haunt him for the rest of his life. “But you smiled Kyle, that was the first time since we went into hiding that I have seen you actually smile. For that brief moment I had my brother back,” that tugged at his heart more than any dance ever had.

“Ike…” Kyle whispered and took his hand while his brother rested against his side. Kyle didn’t know what was to come, had no idea what was waiting for them when the truck came to a stop, but one thing Kyle knew was that he needed to protect his little brother. His green eyes looked over to his mother and father who sat opposite of them. He had to keep his family together, that was his mission.

Kyle had no idea how his brother fell asleep against him after what had happened and with the anxiety of what was to come, but he was grateful he did. Who knew how much sleep they would get at their destination. Were they going to a camp? Or somewhere worse? No. Kyle couldn’t think like that, not after vowing to keep his family together. He needed to stay positive for if he couldn’t believe in hope, how could his family.

After what felt like a heart bursting eternity the truck finally came to a stop. “Ike wake up, we’ve stopped,” he whispered and gently eased his brother off his shoulder. Ike woke with a jolt and was instantly alert, a feat only gained from spending a year in hiding. The back of the truck opened with force revealing the Nazi soldiers who captured them.

“Out!” they ordered and the Broflovski family obeyed without retort. The soldiers stood before the family, guns at the ready and Captain Cartman again stood in the middle, eyeing them down as if they were all a slab of meat. “Welcome to meh camp Jews, hope you’re ready to work. I’m sure you’ll all do a fine job,” there was no sincerity in his voice at all, only malice. “Get them ready, I need to inspect the camp before the welcoming,” Captain Cartman ordered sternly and turned to walk away.

“You! Woman! This way!” one of the soldiers snapped as he grabbed Kyle’s mother and yanked her off to the side away from his family.

“Where are you taking her?!” Kyle asked out of panic and was met with a backhand across the face.

“One of the rules in meh camp Jew is to never speak unless spoken to,” Captain Cartman sneered at the nearly petrified Jew. But Kyle couldn’t register his words, not a single one. This was wrong. This wasn’t how this was supposed to be. Kyle had vowed to keep his family together, to protect them. How could he do that when his mother was being dragged away by a vicious soldier? No! They couldn’t do this!

“Don’t take her please!” Ike pleaded from beside him on the verge of tears, but their father quickly wrapped his arm around him from behind and covered his mouth with his hand. Why wouldn’t he fight back? Why wouldn’t he protest like him and his brother? They needed their mother!

“Mama!!” Kyle shouted just as the Nazi captain grabbed him around the wrist, but he yanked his hand away quick and with force to run off after his mother. Sheila quickly turned to meet him and cupped his cheek in her plump hand and wiped away one of his tears that he wasn’t aware came down his cheek.

“Kyle, it’s ok. Listen to me Kyle, stay strong. Take care of your brother and your father. Always be proud and humble, always,” she whispered very quickly, almost too quick for Kyle to register but he did. It was the same thing his father told him earlier today. _Proud. Humble. Strong._ Could he do this without his mother? He didn’t know, but he had no choice.

“I am, I will,” he promised his mother and before either of them could say good bye, the butt of a rifle met with brute force between his shoulder blades but before his world went completely black he vaguely heard a commanding voice shouting “Respect meh authoritah!”

//

“Kyle, my son, wake up,” came his father’s pleas. Kyle groaned and slowly came back to the world of the waking.

“My arm stings,” was the first thing Kyle found himself saying.

“It will fade soon,” Gerald assured him while helping his son to sit up on his small bed. Confused, Kyle reached down to pull the sleeve of his striped pajamas up to find out why his arm stung so bad. Wait? Striped pajamas? When did his clothes change? “They gave us all these clothes, or uniforms no matter how you look at it. We were all given a medical exam, these clothes and…a tattoo,” the last part Gerald almost said in a whisper sounding ashamed. Now over the shock of his change of clothes he pulled the sleeve of his left arm up and on his forearm there was indeed a tattoo like his father said. But it wasn’t any pretty flower or butterfly, hell it wasn’t even a Swastika, it was a number. Kyle immediately understood what it meant. It was an identification, he no longer had a name in regards to the Nazis. Now Kyle would be know as _916509._

“You mean they branded us papa,” suddenly Kyle’s heart stopped. “Where’s Ike?!”

“I’m here, Kyle, don’t worry,” Ike assured him from his other side; Kyle hadn’t noticed him due to the shock of his clothes and brand.

“Ike!” Kyle exclaimed in a whisper pulling his brother into his arms. While he embraced his brother he looked around for his mother even though he knew it was futile. They had separated the men from the women, the mothers from their sons. Kyle put that together when he looked around the barracks and only saw men and young boys, even kids. “Why didn’t you fight them? You could have fought for mama,” _like I did. Like Ike did._ He wanted to add but didn’t. He released his brother and turned his attention back to his father, disappointment etched all over his face. Wasn’t a husband supposed to fight for his wife?

“Kyle I need you to understand something my boy. Your mother and I have never placed each other first, it was always you boys. Before we went into hiding your mother and I promised that we would protect you boys even if we couldn’t do it together. I stayed quiet for you boys and your mother’s protection,” of course Kyle understood but it didn’t make it any easier to accept. He let his wife be taken away so easily, without even at least speaking up. Kyle didn’t know if he could do that, but then again Kyle had always been very hot headed; a trait he inherited from his mother. “I’m sorry Kyle,” the young Jew looked into his father’s eyes and saw nothing but pain and now really looking at him he looked like he aged so much in just that short amount of time that Kyle was unconscious. His father looked so worn, so lost and Kyle understood. The love of his life was ripped away from him and he wasn’t sure how to go on. It was in this moment Kyle wasn’t sure he ever wanted to experience love if it brought this much pain.

“We’ll get through this papa, together,” with that said Kyle wrapped an arm around his brother's neck and his father’s and pulled them against him to embrace them simultaneously.

“They want everyone in the yard now,” a fellow Jew announced as he ran into the barracks and then immediately ran out; he reminded Kyle of a mouse. The whole building became silent, all glancing at each other with uncertainty and fear. As if believing that physical touch would push away the anxiety of what was to come, Kyle took his father and brothers hand and left the barracks with the other boys and men.

When they stepped out of the building Kyle was shocked to see more and more people coming out of other buildings. Just how many people were in this camp? Hundreds? Thousands? Hell one was just way too many. This was wrong, how could this be? Surely the rest of Germany would notice this many people just vanishing without a word? How in the hell was this secrecy possible?

Once everyone was gathered together in the yard, they stood and looked up at a raised wooden platform, almost like a stage, but what Kyle saw at the back of the platform made his blood run cold. A gallows. A single noose hung from the gallows like a promise of death awaiting anyone the Nazi’s deemed worthy enough for such a necklace. Kyle wondered if it had ever been used, how many had died here? Was this camp in operation long? Kyle involuntarily squeezed his little brother's hand in paranoia. What did all these questions matter in the long run? They were here now and they needed to survive; it was as simple as that.

Several soldiers walked up the side stairs of the platform, stood in a horizontal line and at the center stood the soldier that Kyle recognized the most and would never forget until the day he died; Captain Cartman. “It is with a heavy heart that I regret to inform you all that the former officer in charge of this camp has taken an early retirement,” but the Nazi did not look remorseful in the least, in fact he looked rather proud of this opening statement and something told Kyle that the “former officer” did not take an “early retirement”. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Commandant Cartman,” Kyle tried his best to contain his smirk at the thought this fat soldier received the promotion from Captain to Commandant. “The previous schedule implemented by the former Commandant will remain the same, but for those of you new to this camp listen well because I will say this only once. Each morning you will rise before the sun, should you awaken after the sun you will be punished. After you wake and dress you will then shower and then meet for breakfast. After breakfast you will all line up for roll call and will remain standing until the roll call has finished. From there you will work until lunch and work after until the evening roll call. You will not eat until the evening roll call is finished, I want to make that crystal clear. From there dinner and then bed. Each day will be the same,” Commandant Cartman paused to allow the schedule to sink into the new prisoners heads. Kyle knew there was so much more to this schedule then simple organization and work ethic. The Commandant walked the stage from left to right, and then returned to the center. “The rules of meh camp are simple. You will not speak unless spoken to. You will never look a soldier in the eye. Should a soldier tell you to do something, you will do it without question or hesitation. Any and all forms of expression are expressly forbidden. And the final rule of meh camp is my personal favorite, Re-”

“Europe! Wake up! Can’t you see your children lined up on the edge of the abyss?!” a man shouted out in the crowd over the Commandant’s speech. “Europe! Wake up! Can’t you see your children hate us?!” he was screaming in a fit of psychotic rage, or perhaps terror; possibly both. Commandant Cartman snapped his fingers to signal to two soldiers at his side and then pointed to the crazed man. Without even a word the soldiers ran down the platform and seized the man harshly by the arms to force the man up the platform; the whole time he still screamed out, kicking and fighting against the soldiers pulls. “Do not lose hope Jews!” the soldiers placed the crazed man at their Commandant’s feet and backed away, but still stood at the ready should he try to make an escape. “Life is a gift! Never despair!” suddenly the man was silenced with a single bullet to the head at point blank range. Commandant Cartman pulled back his freshly fired gun and held it up in amusement.

“And the last rule of meh camp is to respect meh authoritah!” his amber eyes found Kyle’s emerald and Kyle found his heart sinking into his stomach. It was as though his eyes had searched out the Jew himself and his eyes displayed a challenge, a challenge that Kyle met as he raised his head in defiance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the lovely comments and kudos. They are definitely motivation to continue this! Hope you guys liked this chapter.  
> A big thank you to my husband who supports all my crazy weirdness! ♡♡


	3. Chapter 3

_//“It’s the fear of the dark it’s growing inside of me that one day will come to life. Have to save my beloved there is no escape because my faith, is horror and doom”//_

“I do believe that could have gone worse,” the soldier said as he closed the door behind him just as he and the Commandant stepped into the small office. His superior let out a huff as he rounded to the back of his desk, opened a drawer and took out a small piece of cloth. 

“Are you kidding? I thought it went great, did you see the fear in their eyes after I shot that guy? I think I made quite a statement for myself,” Cartman said with a twisted smirk as he began to carefully clean the blood off of his freshly fired gun. “And I believe I got my point across, don’t you think so Craaaig?” the soldier rolled his blue eyes at the way his superior drug out his name. 

“We’re not in school anymore Cartman, stop saying my name like that,” Officer Craig said with a bit of smugness to his nasally tone. 

“Ay! That’s Commandant Cartman to you Craig, you may be my first officer but you still will respect authoritah, _my_ authoritah,” Cartman placed his now clean gun on the desk while his first officer again rolled his eyes. 

“What did you need to speak to me about, _Commandant_ Cartman?” Craig said with as much emphasis as he could muster without sounding disrespectful in the eyes of his superior. Cartman seemed pleased and smiled widely. 

“Better,” Cartman walked over to a small table in the corner that bore several glasses, a tall glass bottle with amber liquid and a bucket of ice. Cartman plucked a few cubes out of the bucket into a glass, took the topper out of the bottle and poured him a small glass. “Craig?” Cartman offered the raven haired soldier gesturing with his glass in his hand. 

“I shouldn’t, and technically neither should you _sir_ ,” this time, it was Cartman’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“Oh please, Craig, don’t be such a pansy, I’ll be 21 in October,” Cartman waved his free hand in a dismissive manner. “Besides, being Commandant of a concentration camp definitely has its perks, perks that over look ones age,” Cartman winked at his fellow man and then took a sip of his drink. 

“While that is all _oh_ so fascinating, I would very much like to get to the point sir, I do have work to do as _your_ first officer you know,” Cartman couldn’t help but chuckle at his attitude.

“You’re such a cheeky bastard Craig,” he took another sip of the amber liquid and then held it in front of him sloshing the ice around. “Would you consider us _friends_ , Craig?” Craig eyed his superior in a questionable manner as if he was trying to choose his words wisely in case he were being led into a verbal trap. 

“Sir?” Cartman sighed and stepped out from around his desk to approach Craig. 

“We grew up together, went to school together, joined the regime and have risen through the ranks together. Would you consider us friends?” Craig stood his ground with his back straight and answered his commanding officer without hesitation. 

“I do,” this simple answer made Cartman smirk in amusement. The Commandant approached Craig closely with his free arm behind his back, it was as though his presence alone equaled that of a shark circling it’s prey, waiting to strike at the right moment. 

“And as your friend, Craig, there is something I know about you, something that is forbidden in this new world we wish to create and punishable by death,” Cartman watched as Craig tensed and his eyes went to the gun on the desk behind his back and then clicked his tongue. “But I believe killing you would be a waste of a good soldier,” at this he was amused when Craig visibly relaxed before him. “However, you were there at the welcoming,” Cartman now leaned forward to whisper in Craig’s ear. “You saw the same face in that crowd as I did, tell me Craig, will there be any problems?” 

The Commandant felt his first officer tense again, saw his face pale, and could swear he saw his pulse quicken from the vein in his neck. He was panicking and Cartman relished in that fact. Cartman reached down to grip his first officer’s wrist in warning. “If there is going to be a problem Craig I could just-”

“There won’t be any problems Commandant Cartman. If you do not require my presence I will take my leave,” Craig said avoiding his superiors gaze at all costs and tried his best to keep his collected shields up. Cartman smiled a little too widely when he made it back to sit behind his desk. 

“I am relieved Craig, I didn’t want to have to put in for a new first officer, dismissed,” and with that Craig bowed and without a glance to him he left the office. 

After Craig left, Cartman stared at the door with a twisted smile on his face. He knew Craig was scared, not only from his demeanor, but because when he grabbed his wrist he secretly took his pulse. Oh yes, he was scared, perhaps terrified, and that simple feeling filled Eric Theodore Cartman with so much delight. Fear was the ultimate manipulator in his opinion. With fear comes control, and with control comes power; and power was almost euphoric to Cartman. But what is fears greatest adversary? _Hope._

The Nazi took a swig of his apple juice, yes, apple juice. Even in his other dwellings before his position at this camp, it was always apple juice he kept on hand so that all his company would mistake it for whiskey; no one was ever brave enough to actually take a drink from the sadistic commander less it be poisoned. Truth be told Cartman never had had a drink in his life, even his adult life, and he never would; his reasons were his own. 

Once his glass was empty he walked over to refill it and then made his way over to the window of his small office that overlooked the grounds. With his hands behind his back he looked down at the prisoners below. His eyes scanned the sea of stripes until they found their target; a mass of deep red curls. That filthy Jew that him and his men came upon on their way to this camp. They weren’t even supposed to take that detour but the Commandant had his own reasons for going to that farm and as fate would have it, it was a good thing they did. Stumbling upon another set of Jews for his camp was a nice bounty. 

However, Cartman knew this Jew would be a problem. Just in the very minuscule time frame that Cartman had dealt with this guy, he didn’t know his name or ID for that matter, he knew this guy had spirit and a spark inside him that instinctively caused him to want to protect those he cares about. Cartman knew this, _he_ used to be like this. So naïve, so very naïve. The only way to get anywhere in this world is to watch out for you, yourself; worrying about others was futile. Cartman would make sure this Jew realizes that. 

There was something else Cartman noticed about this Jew, something that he hadn’t seen in any other Jew in a very long time; fears greatest adversary, hope. After being captured, after being separated from his mother, even after seeing a man shot at point black range, he still had a spark of hope in those emerald eyes of his. Hope was a very dangerous motivator and could cause a man to walk blindly into death. Cartman chuckled at that and watched as the young man walked into the barracks. “Let him have his hope for now, he will break. They all do,” but he knew this one would take time, he knew it when the Jew met his gaze at the welcoming. He looked at the Commandant with such defiance that it was sickening. He wasn’t aware he was squeezing his glass so tightly until it was too late and it crushed in his hands. “Shit,” Cartman cursed finding only a single cut on his finger while all the juice and glass shards were on the hardwood at his feet. Leaving the mess on the floor he made his way to an adjacent bathroom to wash his sticky and bleeding hand. “Guess I don’t know my own strength,” he said in amusement. Once his hand was clean he grabbed a towel to dry it but when he stared down at his appendage he remembered something from earlier. 

When Commandant Cartman grabbed the Jew by his wrist to prevent him from running to his mother he felt something he never had before, at least not for many years. _Warmth._ Normally when he touched anyone, be it Jew or his fellow soldier, they always felt cold to him; long ago he had accepted that everyone was just dead on the inside, what other explanation was there? But this Jew, he was warm, so warm. And that frightened Cartman, frightened him enough to actually let go of the Jew; luckily he was struggling enough that it looked like he yanked from his grip. This Jew was without a doubt going to be trouble. “Well, I do like a challenge.”

//

Kyle had always been a light sleeper, even before his family went into hiding, so of course he heard the small noise coming from inside the barracks sleeping room. Without any indication from a clock to know what time it was, all Kyle knew was that it was sometime in the early morning hours; three, maybe four? At first Kyle tried to ignore the noise since later that morning their first day working as prisoners would officially start, but he couldn’t ignore it enough to fall back asleep. Kyle sat up on his very small mattress and looked around the darkened barracks for the source of the noise. Once his eyes were able to adjust to semi see in the darkness he noticed a young man that looked his age pacing back and forth, chewing on this thumbnail, and muttering to himself. 

Instinctively the red head went to stand but a hand grabbed his arm to pull him back down. His father. Gerald shook his head when his son met his gaze as if to tell him to stay put and just leave the boy alone. “I’ll be fine papa,” Kyle assured him as he lightly brushed off his father’s concerned hand. Instead of going back to sleep, Gerald remained awake to keep a watchful eye over his son. 

Kyle carefully approached the young man with silent foot steps, a feat he mastered from years of dancing. He was close enough to hear the males muttering of ‘they’re gonna get me!’

“Excuse me, are you-”

“Gah! Oh I’m sorry! I wo-woke you up didn’t I? I’m al-always doing that. Sorry I’ll try to be quieter,” he turned around to walk away from Kyle but Kyle gently grabbed his shoulder, an action he regretted when the boy shrieked and backed away in fear. 

“Shut up freak!” a random man cried out and suddenly Kyle witnessed a shoe being chucked at the boy next to him. 

“Hey! Leave him alone,” Kyle didn’t yell but definitely was much louder than the whisper he planned on using. 

“He’s a freak, kid, just forget about him. He does this every night and it’s a flipping miracle the guards haven’t come in and beat him to a pulp yet. I tell you we’re sure close.” 

“Gah! N-no please!” the boy shrieked and twitched at Kyle’s side. 

“God just shut up and talk normal,” and then came another shoe aimed at the boy, but Kyle blocked it with his own body. “Stupid kids,” the man grumbled and seemed to return to his slumber. Kyle couldn’t see the man but did glare in the general direction he heard his voice from, then turned back to the boy behind them. 

“Are you ok?” Kyle asked in concern. The boy twitched again.

“Why di-did you do that? They are ri-right. I’m a freak,” Kyle was ashamed in himself that he looked at the boy with pity, but his heart went out to him. What had happened to this young man to make him so twitchy and panicky? Poor guy. 

“Don’t listen to them, and I did it because it was the right thing to do, something people have forgotten about during these times,” Kyle said the first part proudly, but the second his voice faltered. “Will you come sit down with me?” Kyle asked offering his hand to the boy. He figured he wouldn’t touch him again without permission, he decided he was lucky he didn’t receive a black eye. The boy nodded, took Kyle’s hand with his own and he immediately noticed it was shaking. Kyle gave him a tight squeeze of assurance, hoping the boy would take it as a sign of trust and peace. 

Kyle led the boy over to his families bunk and had them both sit on the floor off to the corner. “Will you tell me your name?” Kyle thought he would start off small and simple. The boy gripped his hair and twitched again. 

“818601,” the Jew tilted his head and smiled sadly.

“Not your number, your name,” but the boy began to panic again.

“Gah! But that’s against the rules!” 

“Shh,” Kyle whispered while covering his lips with his index finger. “I was at the welcoming and heard the rules from that fat Nazi,” Kyle’s heart fluttered when he heard the boy chuckle at the insult he gave the Commandant; he figured he should keep going this way. “Never speak unless spoken to, never look a soldier in the eye,” the whole time Kyle was whispering his best impression of Commandant Cartman and the boy continued to giggle. “And my personal favorite, respect meh authoritah!” Kyle went a little overboard in the theatrics at the last part, but it had the other boy on his side with laughter so he figured him looking and sounding stupid was a good price to pay. Laughter was a huge step from panic. 

When the boy calmed down he sat up and took a deep breath. “Tweek, m-my name is Tweek,” 

“Tweek? Is that a nickname?” Kyle asked since the name did sound pretty unique. Tweek shrugged. 

“I can’t remember, it’s been Tweek for so long that I just feel like it’s always been my name,” Kyle nodded in understanding. It was just like Butters, they had called him Butters since they were kids he would often forget his name was actually Leo. 

“Well it’s nice to meet you Tweek, I’m Kyle,” they shook hands and both smiled, even though they could barely see in the darkness. “Tweek how long have you-” but Kyle stopped when the moon shined into one and only tiny barred window in the room. Tweek had blue eyes, and blonde hair, sure his hair stuck out at all ends and looked like constant bed head, but it was still blonde. “You’re not a Jew?” it was more a statement than a question yet Tweek answered it like one. 

“N-no I’m not,” this confused the red headed Jew. The Nazi regime kidnapped more than just Jews? Their own kind? 

“But I thought the Nazi party wanted a master race? Aryan?” Tweek’s eye twitched and he scratched the back of his head. 

“G-guess I’m a flaw in their system, you see how I am. They don’t want someone like me infecting their race. I’m a freak so th-they locked me away,” that made sense to Kyle, horrible and wrong, but it made sense.

“Stop it, Tweek,, you’re not a freak,” he tried to assure the blonde. Tweek hung his head and rubbed his thighs with his bitten nubs.

“Then what am I?” Kyle answered him without hesitation.

“I would like to call you my friend,” Tweek’s head perked up and he had the most wide and stupid smile on his face.

“You-you don’t want me as a friend. Gah! So much pressure,” his mouth and shoulder twitched but yet he was still smiling. 

“Tweek if we’re going to make it through,” he paused for a moment unsure of the right words to use but ultimately decided upon, “Our long work days with those Nazi bastards we’ll need friends to keep us strong. I’ll help look after you, what do you say Tweek?” after he said the words he noticed water forming in Tweek’s eyes. “I’m sorry did I say something wrong?” Tweek shook his head.

“No, you just sounded like a friend I once had, but he’s gone now,” Kyle wasn’t sure if Tweek noticed, but he definitely did. When he spoke of this friend he didn’t stutter once; he must have been a really important person to the blonde if he didn’t stutter when talking about him. Kyle knew better than to press the matter, he said his friend was gone and he’d leave it at that. “I-I would like to be friends K-Kyle.” 

“I’m glad.” 

Kyle and Tweek talked for a bit longer about each other. Kyle shared his passion for dance with the boy, and he in turn told Kyle that he had a coffee addiction since he was very young. It was because of the abundance of that caffeine that caused Tweek to have horrible anxiety and paranoia that only got worse as he got older. At first Kyle only wanted to protect his family, but now he wanted to protect Tweek. No one else around seemed to care about him, he told him his own family even turned him in to the Nazi soldiers, he needed someone and Kyle wanted to help him. 

When they finally decided to go to bed he informed Kyle that his own bed had been taken over and usually slept on the floor or just paced all night because of his paranoia. “Not tonight,” Kyle simply said. So they found themselves sleeping back to back in Kyle’s small bed, falling asleep as new friends to await the first day of work under the new Commandant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say writing Craig was really fun because I feel like he is such a facious twat ♡♡ I hope I have created a good Tweek so far. Hope you guys liked this update. Let me know and thank you so much to everyone reading, commenting and leaving kudos!


	4. Chapter 4

_//“They fall in line, one at a time ready to play. No time to lose, we’ve got to move, steady your hand”//_

“Gah, what if he hits me when he wakes up?” Tweek asked himself aloud while he tugged on his blonde roots. Kyle had a feeling the “he” Tweek was referring to was him and he smiled in his sleep.

“It’s alright, Tweek, I’m up, I’m a very light sleeper,” Kyle mumbled as he opened his eyes, rubbed them and then sat up in the bed he now shared with a friend. _Friend._ He grinned at the thought. Who would have guessed he would have made a friend in a place like this? And just within a day of his arrival.

“Oh go-good. I have been th-thinking about how to wake you u-up for the past hour,” at this Kyle arched his brow.

“Tweek, how much sleep did you actually get?” the Jew saw the boy’s mouth turn into a frown.

“About two hours, b-but it’s ok Kyle really. I have never been able to sleep well, being a c-coffee addict, and a paranoid freak you get used to sleepless n-nights,” Tweek shrugged and looked to Kyle’s sleeping brother and father. “I would wake them u-up so we can head to the showers. The earlier the better, they don’t k-keep the water hot for very long,” Tweek began to stand to give Kyle and his family space when Kyle gently touched his shoulder, thankfully Tweek saw it coming towards him so he did not panic this time.

“You’re not a freak Tweek, some day I’ll convince you of that,” the blonde chuckled quietly and shrugged off Kyle’s hand.

“There you go again reminding me of that friend again,” Kyle bit his lip to stop a stupid grin from forming on his face. There _he_ went again speaking of this friend of his without his stutter.

“Your friend sounds like a good person, I would like to know about them someday,” this made Tweek blush, but at the same time his features gave off pure despair.

“S-Sure Kyle, now hurry up and wake your family,”

//

Tweek was right, not that Kyle had doubted him at all, but the hot water did run out very quickly even though the four of them, along with several other early risers who knew the secret of the water, arrived in the showers first. From the showers they dressed and Tweek led them to the cafeteria for breakfast. “They only give us black coffee to drink?” Kyle asked in disbelief after they sat down together at a very crowded table, every single table in the room was crowded; some even stood or sat on the floor. Tweek held back a groan and shrugged.

“Doesn’t exactly help my c-coffee addiction, but at least we get _s-something._ If you can manage it t-try to make your bread last. W-we don’t get anything until d-dinner and it’s e-even less.”

“Didn’t the Commandant say yesterday at the welcoming we get lunch? And how exactly do you make it last?” Kyle asked out of curiosity while his father and brother looked for the same information.

“Lunch doesn’t m-mean food Kyle, here lunch just means a b-break and some water,” Tweek said like it was no big deal, like he was so used to not having to eat during the day. Tweek then began to break apart his bread and stuffed a few pieces in his sock; Kyle gave a look of uncertainty.

“Isn’t that a little unsanitary? I mean doesn’t the bread get soggy from sweating since we’ll be working?” Kyle instantly regretted what he said from the way Tweek seemed to almost curl in on himself. Here he was giving them tips since he had been at the camp for so long, with no friends and everyone seemed to think he was already crazy.

“Tweek I’m sorry. I’ve just always been sort of a neat freak,” and there he went again wanting to kick himself. _Nice choice of words there Kyle._ “Shit what I mean is-”

“Gah Kyle stop! I’m supposed to be the paranoid one re-remember?” Kyle attempted to smile but still felt very guilty. “Just tr-trust me ok n-neat freak?” now Kyle really smiled and his insecurities went away and the two shared a laugh.

“I will Tweek,” and to prove it Kyle broke apart his bread and stuffed a few pieces in his sock, his father and brother doing the same; Tweek smiled proudly feeling like he had done something right for once.

Kyle and his family listened to Tweek intently while he explained the roll call to them. Pretty much the only important thing they needed to remember was to not move no matter what, no matter how tired, how lethargic, how hot or sick; they were to not move or they would be punished, severely. He informed them that roll call lasted for hours at a time, especially if the name caller messed up he would start all over from the beginning. Kyle prayed that wouldn’t happen today, hell or ever for that matter.

Everyone lined up in the yard for roll call, there was no organization, no one was in alphabetical order, just lines and lines and lines of men, boys, and children. In the middle of the roll call circle was the fat Commandant Cartman, Kyle tried not to throw up his breakfast, surrounded by several soldiers with clip boards; there were more soldiers standing at attention with guns at the ready. The roll call began.

Just like the lines, the names were not in alphabetical order either. _'How very inefficient’_ Kyle grumbled to himself while listening for the names in the roll call. There were so many names, so many prisoners. It was complete madness to Kyle. While the soldiers were calling out the names on the lists, Kyle noticed the Commandant was walking around with his hands entwined behind his back and was looking around at all the prisoners as if he was looking for something. It didn’t take long for him to find the prey the Commandant had been looking for, Kyle. For the second time their eyes locked, but this time Kyle couldn’t exactly read the Commandant like he could the day before. Why was he looking at him? What did he want?

“Gah Kyle stop looking at him, look down,” Tweek whispered at his side through clenched teeth while names were being called around him. Kyle heard his warning but couldn’t break his gaze from the Commandant, he couldn’t back down and didn’t understand why. “K-Kyle please,” Tweek practically begged in warning and finally Kyle conceded. He broke the Commandant’s gaze and now looked down at the dirt beneath his shoes; he was sure that fat soldier had the most stupid looking grin on his face. For a very short moment Kyle raised his gaze, not his head, to look at the Commandant one last time as if saying _this isn’t over,_ and looked back down; he was in fact grinning.

“Ike Broflovski!”

“Here!” Ike shouted as he raised his hand then put it back down.

“Gerald Broflovski!”

“Here!” Gerald did the same as Ike, the names may not have been in alphabetical order, but the families names were kept together.

“Kyle Broflovski!”

“Here!” Kyle shouted and dared to look at the Commandant again and wished he hadn’t. From a stupid grin, his smiled twisted to something wicked and maniacal and he had a haunted look in his amber eyes. When the soldier called out another name, the Commandant looked away from Kyle and went about his observing duties at the roll call. Kyle’s heart plummeted when he realized what the Commandant was waiting for, _his name._ The only reason he watched Kyle was because he wanted to know his name. Why? Why did he want to know? Did he want to know his brother and fathers name too? Was he planning something for them? What the hell was his game?

“Tweek Tweak!” hearing Tweek’s name broke him out of his mild anxiety attack, but Tweek didn’t answer. Kyle glanced at his side and saw something familiar. Tweek was staring at the soldier who had called out his name. _‘Pot calling the kettle,’_ Kyle mocked but knew this was no time for jokes even if they were in his head. Tweek’s blue eyes were fixed on a soldier with black hair and blue eyes, but instead of being defiant like Kyle had been, Tweek seemed terrified. He knew this soldier was new to the camp like the Commandant because that soldier was with him when they captured Kyle’s family, so maybe Tweek was just scared of someone new? But something told Kyle that wasn’t the case at all.

“Tweek Tweak!” the soldier called out again, this time sounding very irritated. Because they were standing shoulder to shoulder, Kyle felt Tweek begin to shake next to him. Kyle used his pinky finger to wrap around Tweek’s to assure him he would be ok. “Answer him Tweek,” he whispered in warning while squeezing his pinky.

“Gah here!” Tweek shouted in panic coming out of his own panic attack. The roll call continued and after several minutes a name was called out but instead of a simple ‘here’ a man said ‘dead’.

“Bring him to the center!” a soldier ordered and then a man moved through the crowd dragging the emaciated body of a dead man. The man left his dead corpse on the ground and returned to his place in line. This happened several more times during the roll call and each time Kyle could barely believe what he was seeing. People were actually dying here and that frightened him, not for him, but for his family, especially his mother because he had no way of knowing how she was from day to day. As Kyle looked at the forming pile of bodies he vowed that his brother, father, and now Tweek, would never end up in that pile. If Kyle could help it, they would never be knocking on death's door.

Just as Kyle’s feet started going numb the roll call was finally over. “Body fetcher’s, get these corpses out of my sight, the rest of you report to your work stations!” the Commandant ordered and the crowd dispersed. Kyle glanced over just in time to see men wheel over carts and began to load the bodies on them.

“Ike, Kyle, look away my sons,” Gerald quietly ordered his sons and without hesitation Kyle obeyed, silently praying for those long gone in the pile.

//

Kyle had no idea what time it was, late afternoon for sure, but who the hell knew what the actual time was? Tweek hadn’t been wrong in saying that “lunch” was nothing more than a break with water and Kyle never realized how much a blessing a small sip of water could be. He, his family, and Tweek were sent digging in the trenches today with countless others. No one knew why they dug these trenches, but if it was an order then they must obey without question. It wouldn’t have been that bad of a work day if it wasn’t so damn hot, or if the soldiers who stood guard over them didn’t talk to tease them. That was what annoyed Kyle the most, the mockery, like the Nazi soldiers were so much better than them. But they weren’t, even though they were monsters they were still equals.

Every now and then when Kyle would look up from the dirt his shovel penetrated, he could have sworn he saw the fat Commandant watching him, but then when he would rub the sun from his eyes he would be gone. He blamed it on the heat, assuming he was just seeing things because he was so hot. He knew it was futile to wish, but he really did wish the soldiers would keep water on hand at all times for them. _Damn them._

“Evening roll call is almost here, the sun is about to set,” Tweek whispered to Kyle when a guard looked away from their direction. Kyle nodded in understanding and finished loading the last of the dirt into a wheelbarrow. He placed his shovel in the dirt, wiped the sweat from his brow and then began to push his wheelbarrow to a nearby pile of dirt. Just when he was feet from the dump pile, a heavy brute body knocked hard into him, causing his wheelbarrow to topple over.

“My my Kaahl, you really should watch where you’re going,” the Commandant clicked his tongue and said in a mocking manner. Kyle was hit with a flurry of emotions all at one time, but he knew he had to control them or else it would mean trouble.

So he did want to know my name earlier and he’s making fun of it. What an asshole. Kyle grinned to himself, for it was very hard to hold down the laughter forming in his gut. “916509,” Kyle said plainly looking down at the Commandant’s boots.

“What was that Jew?” Cartman snapped in fury.

“My number is 916509, _sir,_ ” Kyle was being insubordinate he knew, but he wasn’t about to cower like a frightened puppy, he would stand his ground. Besides, he didn’t want this Nazi to use his name, it didn’t sound right coming from a beast like him.

“And here I was thinking you would think I was a nice Commandant for learning your name Kaahl,” Kyle winced at how he toyed with his name, like he was a snake attempting to entrance his prey. “Not all Commandant’s even care to know their prisoners names, and here I am trying to be kind and show you that I’m not so bad,” Cartman waved a finger in front of his face and clicked his tongue again. “You’re so ungrateful Jew, but that’s why isn’t it? You’re a Jew, you’re all ungrateful aren’t you Kaahl?”

“Stop calling me that!” Kyle shouted in annoyance and finally met the Commandant’s eyes in pure rage. For a moment Cartman stared at him with eyes wide, as if shocked beyond belief that Kyle dared to look him in the eyes, let alone shouting at him. From shock came his twisted grin and a flicker of wickedness in his eyes. _Shit._

“I was going to be nice and let you leave that pile there for the night, but I’ve had a change of heart,” _shocker,_ Kyle rolled his eyes, an action that Commandant Cartman saw and backhanded him across the face. “You will pick up this pile before the evening roll call, which is I think in twenty minutes, better hurry, I don’t think you want to know what happens if you miss evening roll call,” Kyle glared at Cartman while holding his stinging cheek, still refusing to tuck his tail between his legs. Cartman turned to leave but spoke over his shoulder. “Oh and Kaahl, no shovel this time,” he waved at the Jew and took his leave.

Kyle wanted nothing more than to throw a wad of dirt at the back of his fat head, but he didn’t want to be punished, or even killed. For now he would behave, at least the Commandant now knew he had fangs and would bite if necessary.  
Letting out a heavy sigh, Kyle righted himself and began to load back up the dirt with his bear hands. He caught Tweek’s eye whom he could tell was silently asking if he wanted his help, Kyle shook his head. No. He would do this on his own, to prove that he could do it and that the Commandant wouldn’t get to him.

Kyle worked fast, very fast while scooping up the dirt and putting it in the wheelbarrow. He was almost done with the pile when he heard a whistle blow, signaling everyone to line up for the evening roll call. _Shit._ And Kyle moved faster, faster, ignoring the blisters forming on his fingertips. He would finish this, he would get this done even if his fingers bled. Finally he was down to the last bit while the lines were forming. Kyle rushed the wheelbarrow to the dirt pile, dumped it, and then ran to his place in line, practically skidding to a halt next to Tweek just as the final whistle blew.

Just like earlier, as to not draw attention to themselves, Tweek this time wrapped his pinky around Kyle’s and squeezed as if saying he was happy he made it and congratulated him silently. Kyle squeezed back, trying to get his breathing under control while the soldiers began to call out the prisoners names. While names were being called around him _he_ was the to seek out Commandant Cartman this time and when their eyes met, Kyle smirked proudly as if to say _“I won”_ but from the shrug Cartman gave him in return, Kyle knew this was only the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to my continuous supporters with this story. Your comments and kudos give me the motivation to keep writing!  
> Huge shout out to my "fanhoe" who doesn't read fanfiction but reads this and supports me. I love you!!  
> Hope you guys enjoy this one! Let me know! ♡♡♡  
> And a Happy 4th to USA readers!


	5. Chapter 5

_//“I wish words were like little toy guns, no sting, no hurt no one, just a bang bang rolling off your tongue,”//_

Before Kyle knew it a month had past in this god awful place, then two, three, even four months had past. Some days time went by in the blink of an eye, then some days it just felt like an eternity; especially the days where Kyle found himself interacting with the Commandant. Kyle didn’t understand why the Nazi felt the need to bully _him_ , not when there were thousands of other Jews, hell even other people he could be bullying, why him?

Often times Kyle would find himself tripping to face plant in the dirt and the Commandant nearly falling over with laughter; but Kyle would always hold his own and glare right back at the Nazi commander. All Kyle did was glare and hold his head high, he never spoke out. Didn’t the Nazi realize Kyle was breaking one of his rules? Why didn’t he punish him for defying him? Well, he may not have punished the redhead in a typical manner, but the punishments seemed to come in the form of more bullying. He forced Kyle to work harder, pushing him to an almost inhuman speed and strength he never knew he possessed, he pushed him and pushed him to his limits, but this only angered Kyle. Over the past few months he was losing so much weight due to poor diet and horrid working conditions, he couldn’t move as fast as he used to and Commandant Cartman took advantage of that every opportunity he got.

Some days Cartman didn’t even speak to Kyle or even come near him, but yet he still watched him, watched every single move he made. If Kyle was being honest he found it extremely creepy, who knew what was going on inside a crazed Nazi’s head when they were quiet. Was he fantasizing about how Kyle would die? Would it be by his hands? Well if the Commandant had death planned for Kyle he had another thing coming because he was nowhere near ready to give in and he would fight to the end no matter how much Cartman put him through. 

During these blistering summer months Kyle would do all he could to keep his family standing, literally. They were denied water throughout the day and so many times he caught his brother and father from passing out in the heat. He would steady them, whisper words of encouragement that they just needed to make it to dinner where they could “replenish” themselves. Sure, it was barely anything to eat and drink, but it was something. Kyle kept up the moral for his family and for Tweek, if not more so for Tweek because he was much worse off. Tweek had been at this camp long before the Broflovski’s, Tweek was skinny when Kyle met him but now it was almost gruesome how much weight he had lost. Kyle could feel his ribs and hips bones when they slept next to each other at night, and he wondered how long until Kyle and his family reached that point. The red headed Jew was already thin from his years of dancing, but he had so much muscle tone and strength; strength that was rapidly depleting from the inhuman labor he was forced to do every single day.

“He’s s-staring at you again,” Tweek mumbled under his breathe while wiping sweat from his brow. Today they were breaking rocks with a pickaxe, they didn’t understand why but they didn’t question it. Kyle chuckled to himself as he brought his axe down and broke apart a rock.

“Is he? What a shocker,” he mumbled not at all sounding amused. Tweek and Kyle continued to work but also talked quietly.

“You realize it’s c-creepy right? It’s like he’s undressing you with his eyes,” just after he said that sweat dripped down into Tweek’s eyes and burned briefly. “Ah shit,” Tweek cursed as he dropped his axe and palmed at his stinging eyes. Kyle just shook his head and smiled.

“Karma, Tweek, I highly doubt that’s what is on his mind, I wish he wouldn’t. I’d be happier if he’d just kept his fatass in his hoity toity villa,” Tweek blinked a few times to stop the stinging and then picked up his axe and continued to work.

“You’re probably r-right. Nah he probably ju-just wants to e-eat you,” he joked while breaking a rock.

“Hope he likes kosher,” Tweek actually had to bite his bottom lip to hold back the laughter that really wanted to explode from his belly up; Kyle was doing the same. They both hated their lack of free will, not being able to laugh was really a curse. Kyle and Tweek continued their labor for the day and tried to keep the talking to a minimum; but the interaction between the two was really good for their morale.

There was probably an hour until evening roll call and Kyle dared glance where he knew the Commandant was watching him, but he wasn’t there. _‘Good,’_ Kyle relaxed with a sigh, but then noticed the first officer who followed the Commandant around, the one whom seemed to terrify Tweek at the welcoming. In the months that have passed, while Kyle noticed Commandant Cartman looking at him, he noticed Tweek and this soldier exchanging glances as well; but this felt different to Kyle. With Cartman and Kyle it was defiance, a challenge, Kyle would take whatever he threw his way. But with this man and Tweek…

Tweek never looked at this soldier the same way twice, sometimes it was pure rage, other times it was sadness, there were even times where Tweek seemed confused when looking at him. But the emotion that Kyle noticed the most was _longing_ , as if he longed to return to a time long ago, a happier time. Did Tweek know this soldier? He really wanted to know, but with how emotional Tweek seemed to be when their eyes met, he thought it best to leave it alone.

“You’ve got your own admirer you know,” Kyle said nonchalantly but Tweek didn’t answer; this surprised Kyle a bit. “Tweek are you alright?” Tweek seemed to be swaying on the spot, blinking his eyes as if trying to focus them on what he was doing.

“I’m f-fine Kyle,” but Kyle knew he wasn’t fine at all.

“Tweek maybe you should stand still for just a moment, get it together,” Kyle whispered, all his alarms going off for his friend. It was horrible advice he knew, for a moment's pause could mean cruel retribution, but Tweek looked like he was about to pass out from dehydration and exhaustion.

“I-I said I’m fine Kyle, do-don’t worry,” but Kyle did worry. Tweek weakly scooped up a pile of rocks in his arms and started to walk away to dispose of them. Kyle kept up his work, but his eyes never left his friend. Tweek was swaying while he walked, almost stumbled once, and just before he reached his goal he dropped all his rocks and tumbled forward.

“Tweek!” Kyle’s body reacted on its own. He dropped his axe and began to run to his friend with hopes of catching him, but he didn’t. He halted at who did. Tweek fell into the arms of the black hair, blue eyed soldier and for a brief moment time seemed to stand still, it actually looked like more of an embrace to Kyle, as if the two found a moment of bliss in this hateful reality. But this tranquility was very short lived for the waves of reality were ruthless.

“Get away from me!” Tweek shouted in revulsion while forcefully pushing away the soldier with his palms. Kyle was surprised, he didn’t know Tweek had a mean bone in his body. The soldier stumbled back and looked at him at first with what Kyle took as ache, perhaps wounded pride, but that quickly morphed into raw hatred.

“You ungrateful twitchy bastard,” he sneered through clenched teeth. “You should be grateful I just saved your pretty little face from being butchered by those sharp rocks,” Kyle saw something flicker in Tweek’s eyes, but couldn’t place it, whatever it was getting under his skin.

“I didn’t ask for your help!” Tweek yelled at the soldier who again looked taken aback while he stared down into Tweek’s raging blue eyes.

“You’re such a freak!” What happened next was almost too fast for Kyle to register. Tweek had slapped the soldier across the face and as he pulled his hand back there were tears in his eyes.

“I hate you,” Tweek didn’t raise his voice, but Kyle had a feeling the words cut the soldier even deeper with him saying it so quietly. Kyle was definitely missing something, but now was no where near the time to find out what that was. Tweek had just struck a soldier and knew this wasn’t going to end well. Once the soldier was over the shock of Tweek’s actions, he was readying his body to strike back, but instinct kicked in with Kyle. The instinct to protect.

Kyle pulled Tweek behind him and stood his ground in front of the soldier, glaring at him the exact same way he glares at the Commandant. This only angered the soldier more. “Get out of my way Jew, this is between me and that freak!” Kyle felt Tweek twitch behind him, that word really was a horrible trigger for him. But Kyle didn’t move and he wasn’t about to. “I said move!” the soldier went to raise his fist to Kyle, but his hand was suddenly stopped. Kyle’s eyes widened in shock when he saw Commandant Cartman holding the soldiers wrist, stopping him from hitting Kyle. _'Where the hell did he come from?'_

“Lieutenant Craig, you’re going to be late for evening roll call. Get to your post,” _so his name was Craig._

“But Commander-” Cartman gripped his wrist much tighter to where Lieutenant Craig winced in pain.

“That is an order,” Cartman sneered through his teeth, glaring at Craig with blazing eyes; a sight that would terrify Kyle if he were staring back. Cartman dropped Craig’s wrist and the soldier bowed to his commanding officer.

“Yes sir,” and left to prepare for evening roll call. Once he was gone, Kyle returned to the situation at hand, they were face to face with the Commandant now, not some soldier. But it didn’t matter if he was staring down the Fuhrer himself, he was still going to protect Tweek; he’d even take his punishment for him; when his eyes locked with Cartman’s, something told Kyle the Nazi knew this. However, what happened instead shocked Kyle. Commandant Cartman merely smiled, and then walked away.

“I-I think he just spared us,” Tweek whispered behind him. He was right. The Commandant just walked away without reprimanding them, and stopped his first officer from striking Kyle. _But why?_ “Come on, we need to finish this before roll call,” Tweek told Kyle who agreed, but not after one more glance at the Commandant’s back.

//

Kyle had become so accustomed to sleeping next to Tweek that his body recognized when it was missing the warmth it was used to. Kyle grumbled as he sat up alone in the small bed and looked around for Tweek, he found him sitting against the wall from their bed, his knees against his chest and his head in his knees; he was shaking. Quietly, Kyle got out of the bed and walked over to his friend. “Tweek, hey come back to bed,” he whispered while crouching down next to him. But Tweek didn’t answer him, he continued to shake into his knees and Kyle heard a very faint sob. The Jew knew there was no moving him so instead he grabbed the thin blanket from the bed, sat down next to Tweek and wrapped them both up in the blanket. Once he was comfortable next to the blond he just sat there, remaining quiet until Tweek had calmed down; he wanted him to know he was there for him when ready.

Several minutes past when Tweek’s muffled sobbing stopped and he came up from his knees. He looked a mess with his tear stained face, puffy eyes and hot cheeks, but still Kyle smiled to assure him he was still there for him. “It’s Craig,” Tweek said quietly, but loud enough for only Kyle to hear; they had to speak in near whispers in the barracks because even the prisoners would turn on each other. “That friend you wanted to hear about. It’s Craig,” Kyle’s eyes widened slightly but gave a nod of understanding; he should have put that together from the start. “We grew up together, we were the best of friends. He helped me through all my anxiety and insecurities. Whenever I had an attack he was the only one who could ever calm me down. Craig was always there for me, it didn’t matter what time of day, if I needed him he was there,” Tweek paused for a moment to take in a shaky breath, trying to push down the onslaught of fresh tears that he knew would soon come. “But then some rumors started going around school that we were a couple, that we were both gay. After that we both got bullied a lot, I mean I was already bullied for how I am, but Craig was always there to defend me. But when the bullying actually happened to him and people called him gay, he stopped defending me and started to get distant,” Tweek reached up to grip his hair hard, something Kyle learned he did when he was really at war inside his head. Gently, and with caution, Kyle grabbed his hands away from his head to ease them at Tweek’s side, but the hand closest to him he wrapped their pinkies together. Ever since the first time they did this it had become normal for them, almost like a coping mechanism. Holding hands was too romanticized, joined pinkies meant a promise, a promise that they were there for each other as friends during this twisted time.

Kyle squeezed his pinky. “I’m here Tweek, keep going if you can,” he whispered to his broken friend. Tweek took in a few shaky breathes while wiping tears from his eyes.

“One night I was having one of my episodes and Craig was with me and calmed me down. We were in bed together, nothing happened, we were just friends,” but Tweek didn’t need to defend himself, friends could sleep in bed together regardless of gender, Tweek and Kyle did it every night. Kyle squeezed his pinky again as to say that he understood and to go on. “But that night I did something stupid, Kyle. Something so stupid,” now Tweek was gripping Kyle’s pinky so hard that he was worried he might break it, but Kyle pushed through the pain.

“What did you do Tweek?” the tears poured from Tweek’s baby blue hues and he really did try his best to stay calm and quiet, the quiet was working, the calm-not so much.

“I told him I loved him, Kyle,” he wanted to scream but knew he couldn’t. “I told him that I loved him, that I had been in love with him for a long time, long before the rumors started. I was trying to be brave Kyle, brave like Craig was standing up to all the kids who picked on me. I confessed my feelings and told him if he felt the same we could get through it together,” Kyle noticed his eyes were glazed over, as if he was replaying the memory in his mind, remembering every single detail of the moment he tried to be strong. Kyle knew that must have taken him guts to do.

“What happened Tweek?” Now Tweek actually laughed, it wasn’t a normal laugh of amusement, but more of a twisted, crazed laugh that one would expect from a mental patient.

“What happened? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He smiled that stupid attractive smile of his, said nothing, and we went to bed. The next morning he was gone, didn’t come to school the next day or the day after. When was the next time I see him? At the welcoming! At the fucking welcoming Kyle! He left me, his best friend, to join these monsters and never told me!” now he was yelling but Kyle understood completely.

“Shut up freak!” one of the men called out in the barracks.

“Fuck off!” Kyle was almost surprised Tweek yelled back, but after the way he yelled at Craig today, he wasn’t surprised at all. Tweek was back to crying in his knees now, but Kyle wasn’t about to let him stay there all night.

“Come on Tweek, you can cry with me,” he helped his friend stand and led him back to the bed they shared. They laid down facing each other, but Tweek moved as close as he could on his side and just sobbed into Kyle’s chest. The red head had his arm around his waist while he broke down against him. “You were brave Tweek, very brave,” Kyle couldn’t even imagine what Tweek was going through, or what he felt in his heart. All he knew was that he was hurting, badly. For the second time Kyle saw how love could hurt someone and he still wanted nothing to do with love. 

//

“What the hell was that about, Eric? Why did you stop me?!” Craig shouted when they stood in the Commandant’s office.

“Watch it Craig, you forget your place,” Cartman quickly warned his officer when he kicked off his boots.

“Sorry _sir!_ Now what the hell was that about _sir?!_ ” Cartman sighed and placed a finger to his throbbing temple.

“You’re such an asshole Craig, tell me, what would you have done if you actually got the Jew out of the way?” this shut Craig up and he stood frozen, panic rising from his belly.

“I would have-” but he couldn’t finish his sentence and Cartman smirked in amusement.

“You had no idea what you were going to do did you Craaig? Let me tell you what I knew was gonna happen. You wouldn’t have been able to touch that boy if it came right down to it, he would have hit you again, nice red mark by the way,” Craig blushed in embarrassment unaware Tweek had left a mark on his face. “Perhaps the Jew would have even joined in, and what if other people saw it? That would cause quite a scene, they would have probably caused a riot and I just can’t have that in my camp. You had been doing so good these few months Lieutenant, don’t lose your backbone now. Get your shit together,” Craig stood straight and bowed to his commander knowing he was right. He messed up today, and not just as a soldier.

“It won’t happen again sir,” Cartman nodded in approval.

“See that it doesn’t. I do not care what punishments you dish out, just make sure you have the balls to go through with it,” Craig bowed at the waist.

“Yes sir,” Cartman waved him off.

“Now get out,” just as Craig touched the knob of the door he turned back to his commander.

“Sir, you knew I wasn’t going to hurt Tweek, but what about the Jew. You saw me raise my hand, why did you stop me?” for a moment their eyes met and everything was silent and still, but Cartman smirked and turned to gaze out his window.

“Dismissed, Lieutenant,” Craig took the warning and didn’t press further, he left the Commandant’s office without a word. Cartman smiled down at the red head Jew in the crowd and watched him enter the mess hall. “Because no one will lay a hand on _my_ Jew.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked this one! It was emotional to write but there is some Creek backstory. Yes the main focus is Kyman but I'm building to it. Thank you for sticking with me. All your comments and kudos really help the muse!


	6. Chapter 6

_//“I’ll cry until the candles burn down this place, I’ll cry until my pity party’s in flames,”//_

_What the hell is that noise?_ The sound buzzed and buzzed and seemed to be getting louder, and much much more annoying. _Jesus shut up!_ The Nazi commander tried as hard as he could to hold onto his last remnants of sleep, but the buzzing drew him out of the sandman’s grasp. _Oh. It’s the alarm clock._ “Shit,” Cartman grumbled rolling over to hit the off switch on the small clock that sat on his bedside table. Once off he allowed his arm to fall off the side of the bed and just laid there, on his stomach, head pounding. “What’s good about being in charge of a concentration camp when _I_ have to get up at the ass crack of dawn?” he groaned in self pity. He laid there for a few more minutes to allow his body and mind to adjust to his awakening.

With a loud, annoyed grumble, the Commandant finally sat up in bed, swinging his legs to hang off. “I don’t smell coffee, that asshole have better made some,” Cartman cursed while he pinched the bridge of his nose in hopes that would ease the throbbing in his head; of course that didn’t happen. He didn’t need to look at the calendar on the wall of his office that was down the hall, he knew what today was, even his body knew the date and acted accordingly.

_September 16th_

_God damn._ Cartman would give anything to just go back to bed, sleep through this entire day and just continue on tomorrow. Unfortunately he knew he couldn’t for he had to perform his duties as a high ranking officer. “And I told Craig being in charge comes with so many perks,” he moaned at his own irony not being able to take a day for himself. “Guess responsibilities come with more responsibilities,” he rubbed both hands over his face, lightly smacked his cheeks and stood to get ready for the day. He wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

Cartman was much more awake after a good hot shower. He dressed in his uniform, even put on his boots. Had the floor of his villa been covered in carpet he would have cared about getting it dirty, but with it being hardwood he couldn’t find himself to care all that much. His villa. Now _that_ was a huge perk that came with being a Commandant of his own concentration camp. The villa sat upon a hilltop that overlooked the camp, that way anyone in charge could watch their camp from the cozy interior. The Commandant’s villa was everything the camp wasn’t. Every room was decorated with the finest furniture, the showers always had hot water, there was a kitchen with copious amounts of food denied to the prisoners. The villa only housed three people, the Commandant, his first officer and it’s caretaker who also doubled as a personal chef to the high ranking officers.

“Clyde, you better have my coffee, asshole,” Cartman sneered when he sat down at the dining room table.

“Of course sir, fresh from the pot, cream and no sugar,” _just how he liked it._ A young man with shaggy brown hair and green eyes set his commanders steaming coffee in front of him. “Are you ok? You look like hell,” Clyde regretted the words as soon as they came out when he was met with Cartman’s glare. “Sorry sir, I forget we’re no longer in school,” there was so much Cartman could say to the boy on this matter but he just wasn’t in the mood so instead he waved him off.

“Just hurry up with my breakfast goddamn it,” after Clyde left the room, Cartman sighed and again pinched the bridge of his nose. _Damn this headache needs to go away._ He began to nurse his coffee while he was waiting on his breakfast. Like Craig, Cartman knew Clyde since they were kids but he never considered him to be one of his friends, hell he didn’t actually consider Craig a friend either. In Cartman’s mind they were both just tools, tools to be used and replaced when he no longer had a use for them. They were at war, there was no room for friendship; but he would never let them know this for he needed to keep them on their leash, so to speak. While Craig was loyal to Cartman as his first officer, Clyde was loyal to him around the villa and worked hard to maintain it. Clyde wasn’t soldier material, he was too much of a whiny baby; or a Cartman frequently called him a “pussy”.

“Damnit Clyde you’re taking too long this morning. Stop dreaming about your stupid girlfriend and cook meh food!” Cartman definitely heard him bang something in the kitchen in retort yet he said nothing; this made Cartman smirk. Had they still been in school Clyde would have back talked him and called him names, but not since he became Commandant, not since he gained power. And boy, did Cartman love power.

Getting frustrated from sitting at the table, Cartman made his way over to the window in the sitting room to look out at the grounds. It was about time for the prisoners to have breakfast of their own; any minute now they should be leaving the barracks for the mess hall. Not a minute had passed when they all began to file out. Cartman watched them all with disdain as they scurried to the mess hall like the rats they were. So many. So many rats in his camp, rats that needed to be exterminated. It was true that he would love nothing more than to have all the Jews perish, but death was too simple, too easy. He wanted them to suffer more than anything. God how he hated them all.

 _But that’s not true, is it?_  
Cartman’s amber eyes found the only spec of color in this dismissal place, the deepest shade of red he had ever seen. The red hair and green eyed jew, Kyle Broflovski. He hated this Jew above all the others.

 _But you don’t really hate him, do you?_  
Cartman gripped the porcelain mug tighter in his hand. Damnit. No, he didn’t hate the Jew, he didn’t hate him at all, and that’s what really made the Commandant infuriated.

 _He fascinates you, doesn’t he?_  
Yes. There was something about Kyle that impressed the Commandant, that intrigued him. Kyle was definitely defiant, had been since the day he was captured, but even after these few months in his camp the Jew is still ruthlessly defiant. No matter how hard or how fast Cartman made him work, he still finished each and every task with a flame burning inside him. A flame that Cartman needed to put out.

 _But you don’t really want to do that, do you Eric? Where would the fun in that be if he was so obedient?_  
There was something about their exchanged “challenges” that was fun to Cartman. As much as he would love for the boy to bend to his will, it wouldn’t be fun to just have another empty shell doing everything he ordered.

 _That’s why he is your Jew, isn’t he Eric?_  
Cartman found himself blushing and cursing himself. Damnit! Why had he told himself that yesterday? They are all in his camp! They are all his Jews!

 _But he is special, isn’t he?_  
He couldn’t deny it, this particular Jew was special. Was it just because he liked the fire that erupted between them when their eyes met? Was it because he could read the colorful names Kyle was calling Cartman in his head when he gave him orders? Was it because Kyle continued to prove that he could do anything Cartman made him?

 _He’s still not afraid of you._  
Cartman’s hand began to shake as a wave of revelation washed over him. Kyle wasn’t scared of him. That’s what it was. Kyle still isn’t afraid of him, even after these months under his reign at the camp. How was that possible? Everyone feared him, everyone in his school, in the regime, all the prisoners he captured, hell, he knew even Craig and Clyde feared him. Cartman always used fear to get his way, but Kyle wasn’t scared, he still wasn’t giving up his stupid idea of hope, was he? Well he’d fix that soon, they all end up afraid of him, he will too.

 _But you don’t want that do you? You don’t want your Jew to fear you. Right Eric? It actually means something to you that he isn’t afraid._  
Cartman growled in the back of his throat as he shook his head. “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” he turned away from the window, his hand gripping his hair to try and silence his thoughts. While trying to get himself under control another spec of color caught his eye, this time purple. On the fireplace mantle was a black porcelain vase that housed several purple budding iris flowers.

Cartman froze in a panic. His pupils shrank, his heart rate sped up so fast he could hear his pulse in his ears, his stomach dropped and luckily he had no food in his system to lose from the wave of nausea that hit him. “Clyde! Who the fuck sent these flowers?!” That very same moment Clyde was setting a plate down with food on the dining room table, he turned his head to look at the flowers then to Cartman.

“Oh, the Fuhrer sent those, from one of his gardens. Congratulations for being in charge of the camp, late congratulations if you ask me,” Clyde mentally hit himself for he basically insulted their Fuhrer and expected Cartman to lash out, but that didn’t happen. Instead he continued to stare at the flowers with wild eyes. “Oh shit the bacon!” Clyde ran back into the kitchen.

 _Congratulations my ass._ The Fuhrer knew exactly what today was! Did he think this was funny? Or was he really being sincere? It didn’t matter his reasoning and it didn’t matter that these flowers were a gift from the Fuhrer himself, Cartman was enraged and felt repulsed by the sight of the flowers.

For the second time today, Cartman saw red, but not the red of his Jew that stirred something new and different inside him. This red awoke the real monster everyone made him out to be. The Commandant grabbed the vase, let out an almost animalistic scream, and threw the porcelain vase against the opposite wall, shattering on impact.

Clyde came running out of the kitchen in a panic. “Cartman what happened? Did you-?” but he was cut off when he saw the look of fury in Cartman’s eyes, the look of a monster, of a beast that was out for blood; Clyde was terrified.

“Burn those flowers before I get back!” and with that Cartman stormed out and Clyde feared for anyone who would get in his way, but that fear was quickly replaced with irritation. He didn’t even eat!

“Asshole,”

//

Once again the boys were set to breaking and collecting rocks around the camp; Kyle’s brother and father were out digging in the trenches. Kyle hated being separated from his family, but he made sure Ike understood to watch over their dad; he wasn’t looking his best these days. While he didn’t feel great about spending the day apart from his family, he was however, thankful that Tweek was feeling much better today. Tweek had cried himself to sleep in Kyle’s arms and didn’t wake up once after that; Kyle knew he needed that rest knowing he barely ever slept. At breakfast that morning Tweek had asked Kyle if it bothered him, Tweek being gay. The Jew just smiled and grabbed his pinky. He assured Tweek that who he loved didn’t matter one single bit to Kyle, he loved who he loved, simple as that. Regardless of his sexuality, they were still friends.

Kyle himself had never wondered about his own sexuality, but then again he had never been in a situation where he found the need to question himself. He only ever had one crush, a girl named Rebecca in the fourth grade. Nothing happened, it was just a silly crush, didn’t all kids have crushes?

When Kyle started dancing it became his life, he didn’t find the time or even the want to date. Then once the war started, his family and their survival became his first priority; a love life had been set on the furthest back burner imaginable. He would openly admit that he didn’t understand love, but he did know that it hurt, he had seen it first hand with his parents and with Tweek; he didn’t want something that caused such pain. Besides there was a war going on and who knew when it would end.

“Kyle are y-you ok? You’re pretty q-quiet,” Tweek whispered to the Jew after breaking a rock. While yes, they had to be as quiet as they could while they worked if soldiers were watching, they took opportunities when said soldiers weren’t looking. They needed to keep up their morale as best they could.

“Hm? Oh yeah Tweek I’m fine, just-” but he was caught off guard by a gunshot, that was the first gunshot he had heard since the welcoming; it wasn’t a sound he was accustomed to. Yes people died here, he had seen it. Prisoners would drop at roll call, during the heated days of summer from exhaustion and lack of water and proper meals; some even died of infections that set in from being beaten to a pulp by the soldiers. But death by gunshots didn’t happen, the prisoners were too scared to risk being shot so they performed their job adequately and as fast as they could, never defying the soldiers; except Kyle who defied the Commandant every chance he got.

Another gunshot went off.

Kyle’s blood ran cold. _Ike! Papa!_ Without thinking Kyle took off in a sprint towards the gunshots.  
“Kyle!” Tweek went to grab him to force him to stay, but he was too fast; leaving a workstation without permission was forbidden. Even knowing this, it didn’t stop Tweek from running after his friend.

“Oy! Get back here!” the soldier watching over their station yelled and ran after them.

Kyle found himself entering a small crowd of prisoners that were gathered in the main yard. Kyle pressed through the crowd, silently screaming for his brother and father, praying that they were alive. Because his focus was on all the faces in the crowd, he found himself tripping over something. Kyle quickly realized that something was a body, a body with a bullet hole in the back of his skull that was gushing blood. He started to scream out when a hand clamped over his mouth, Tweek. “Don’t scream, don’t d-draw any attention to yourself,” he whispered at Kyle’s ear. “Slowly stand u-up and don’t move,” Tweek released his mouth when Kyle nodded. They both slowly stood up and remained in their spot in the crowd. Kyle felt blessed that body didn’t belong to his father or brother, nevertheless he said a silent prayer for the man.

Without raising his head, Kyle looked around the crowd to see if he could find his brother and father. His heart pounding in his chest until finally he found them standing side by side towards the middle of the crowd. _Thank god._ With the assurance his family was alright, he now focused on what was happening. Why was this man dead? Kyle heard two gunshots, so he knew there was another dead body somewhere in the crowd. His eyes fell upon the Commandant, he was walking through the crowd in a fit of rage. Kyle had never seen him act this way, even when Commandant Cartman shot that man at the welcoming he looked calm and collected; like killing that man was all business. This man, this wasn’t the same man who watched him these few months. His eyes were completely different. Usually those amber hues held a bit of amusement, he enjoyed watching Kyle exert himself to the point he would nearly pass out. Those eyes always held a challenge, daring Kyle to talk back to him, to defy him. Kyle had to admit there was so much fire in them, a fire that matched his own. But looking at him now, there was no way this was the same Nazi.

If anything, _this_ was what came to mind when Kyle heard the word “Nazi”. Cartman looked completely deranged, he embodied the definition of sadistic murderer in this moment. Kyle no longer recognized the amber and in fact found himself missing them. Cartman stormed through the crowd like a wild lion in search of prey, he was out for blood. Kyle noticed the blood splatter over his uniform and even on his face. It was like something snapped inside him, but Kyle couldn’t begin to imagine what that was.

“I’ll ask again. Which one of you greedy Jews snuck that loaf of bread into the barracks?!” Kyle noticed Craig was at the front of the crowd holding the loaf he mentioned. _This was why he was shooting people? A loaf of bread?!_ “Still no one?!” After a few moments of silence, Cartman kicked behind a man’s knees to where they buckled and he shot him in the back of the head. Kyle began to shake, not out of horror, but out of anger. How could he do this?!

“Look down Kyle,” Tweek warned him in a whisper, but it came out as a plea. No! Kyle wasn’t about to look down. This was wrong, didn’t anyone see that? Someone had to do something!  
“So three isn’t the lucky number huh?” Cartman kicked another man to the ground and aimed his gun at the back of his head. “How about four?” as soon as Cartman cocked his gun, Kyle screamed.

“Stop! I did it! I did it! Just please stop!” Tweek gripped his arm, hard.

“The fuck are you doing?! You’ll get yourself k-killed!” he whispered as loud as a whisper could be; Tweek knew Kyle was lying, he never took the bread. But Kyle didn’t care, he didn’t want anyone else to die; especially not by a crazed monster over a loaf of bread.

“Get out of my way!” and the crowd parted like the red sea, revealing Kyle to Cartman. As they did so many times before, their eyes met, but this time Kyle felt a pain in his chest and his own emerald hues showed pity for the Commandant. What made him into this monster? Cartman moved fast towards him, much faster than someone his size should be able to move. The second he was upon Kyle he backhanded him across the face. “Stealing is a crime in meh camp Jew!” but Kyle simply smirked when he wiped his head back around to face Cartman.

“I don’t remember that rule at the welcoming sir,” Cartman’s face burned with fury and he backhanded Kyle again.

“It’s one of the Ten Commandments! Or do you Jew rats just think those are beneath you? Like you think everyone is beneath you people?” This shocked Kyle because his statement was completely backwards.

“You’re one to talk! You people think you’re so high and mighty! That the world revolves around you but it doesn’t!” He was digging his grave, but so be it. He wasn’t about to go down without a fight.

“You slimey son of a-” he pulled his arm back to ready to hit Kyle again but just before his hand collided with Kyle’s cheek, Kyle caught it.

“GOD DAMNIT STOP HITTING ME FATASS!” Everything stopped, everything and everyone was frozen in time; Kyle held his breath. _Shit he fucked up._ Cartman’s crazed eyes bore into his near frightened ones and then something happened Kyle didn’t expect. For a brief moment Cartman’s amber returned to their warm, passionate glow and he smiled; but Kyle blinked and the monster was back.

“Seize him!” Cartman ordered and two soldiers stormed through the crowd and grabbed Kyle by the arms. “Not the jew, _him,_ ” Cartman had pointed to Tweek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed some insight on Cartman. Let me know what you guys think. Sorrynotsorry for the cliffy ^_~  
> Thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments. You all really rock my socks. I love hearing which parts you all liked.


	7. Chapter 7

_//“Would you mind if I hurt you? Would you mind if I tried to, cause you have turned in to my worst enemy, you carry the hate that I feel,”//_

Commandant Cartman could not deny the feeling of satisfaction he felt the moment he witnessed the Jew’s pupils shrink, or fight the smile that formed from his lips when his already pale skin lightened enough to match that of the whitest snow; he tried his hardest to not laugh when his limbs seemed to turn to rubber. Cartman had done it, he had finally brought the fear out of the Jew and to him it was oh so satisfying; almost euphoric.

_But you know this isn’t what you want, Eric._

Cartman shook his head to block out the annoying voice some people called a conscious. Of course this was what he wanted. Ever since the first day he met this Jew he wanted him to be afraid, he was a Jew after all. They should _all_ fear him. “No, no no!” Kyle struggled weakly against the two soldiers who were already holding him. 

“You two keep a hold on the Jew, you two,” he snapped to two other soldiers who were watching on the sidelines keeping the other prisoners back. “Take the freak,” they entered the crowd instantly to carry out their orders. “Take him to the podium,” Cartman ordered with venom.

“No! Cartman don’t do this!” Kyle begged as he struggled against the iron grip of the soldiers. The Commandant approached Kyle close, he was seething and his initial instinct was to slap the red haired Jew, but something held him back. No. Something inside him would not allow him to strike the Jew again. Instead he opt for gripping his chin firmly, very firmly with the intent to cause him pain. He lifted his chin so that Kyle could look into his eyes; the defiance was still there from the Jew, but his fear was very prominent. “Please, you know this is wrong,” Kyle pleaded softly with the Commandant in hopes he would somehow see reason. The look Kyle gave Cartman nearly shook him to the core, it was a look of pure hopelessness. Cartman saw this look in so many other Jews, nearly all of them in fact, but on Kyle it looked...wrong. This was what Cartman wanted more than anything, then why did it look and feel so wrong?

_Listen to him Eric. He’s right. This is wrong, you know this is wrong. Don’t do this._

For a brief moment Cartman hesitated, his grip slacking on Kyle’s chin. Maybe he should stop this? Cartman again shook his head with an angered grunt and reaffirmed his rough grip on Kyle’s chin. “No you listen here you filthy Jew rat. I warned you from the very beginning to respect meh authoritah, but you chose to not listen and your little friend here will pay for your screw up,” Cartman then snapped his fingers again to order the soldiers to continue taking Tweek up onto the platform. While Kyle was struggling to break free of the Nazi soldiers restraining him, his green eyes found Tweek’s own blue.

“It’s okay Kyle,” Tweek assured him and then mouthed two words that Cartman could not make out and let out a small groan of frustration.

“Tie him to the post!”

//

_Pinky promise._ That was what Tweek had mouthed to Kyle. He was telling Kyle that he would be ok, but Kyle knew Tweek well enough by now to know that he knew it meant so much more. Kyle knew Tweek was telling him that he did not blame Kyle for what was about to happen, that he accepted any fate that was about to befall him; even if it meant his life. But Kyle couldn’t accept that. There was no sugar coating it, this was Kyle’s fault. He had admitted to a crime in the camp that he did not commit, he had defied Cartman, spoken out against him, touched him, and the worst part of all-he called him a “fatass”. Kyle should be digging his grave, not Tweek’s. He should be the one punished or even killed.

The very moment the Commandant ordered Tweek be taken up onto the podium Kyle could no longer think straight and nearly exploded into hysterics. The podium housed the gallows, a necklace of death to any that defy the Nazi regime, and his new best friend was about to be hung for Kyle’s own defiant mouth. Kyle tried, he begged and pleaded with Cartman to let Tweek go, to do the right thing and instead punish him. For a brief moment Kyle thought he had gotten through to the wicked Nazi, for a split second he thought that maybe he was having some type of revelation, in a single moment he thought he sensed hesitation from the Nazi, he was dead wrong. He still ordered him to be taken up, but what really shocked Kyle were Cartman’s next shout of orders.

“Tie him to the post!” _post? Post for what?_ Kyle watched in panic as soldiers turned him around with his back to the crowd and bound Tweek’s wrists to a post above his head. A thousand different scenes were playing out in Kyle’s head while this was happening. Was he going to be left there for days to possibly starve to death? Was this a form of torture for the Nazi’s to laugh at? To mock? Were they going to see how long he could stand until his legs buckled beneath him and kill him as punishment for not being strong enough? All of this and more went through Kyle’s mind, but he wasn’t prepared for what Cartman announced next. “Let’s see, I think 20 lashes for speaking out, another 20 for taking bread from the kitchens, and 40 for insulting your Commandant when all he has done is try to make your stay here as enjoyable as possible,” _lashes?! As in whipping?!_

“No! Commandant, this isn’t fair! Stop this please! Put me up there! Not Tweek!” Kyle screamed, Kyle begged still fighting against the soldiers who held him.

“How admirable, but you need to learn a lesson Kyle. If you keep speaking out and resisting my men I will add more to his sentence. You don’t want that do you Kyle?” This shut Kyle right up. No, he did not want to add to Tweek’s punishment, especially when it should be _his_ punishment. Kyle noticed Cartman had actually used his name and a strange feeling erupted in the pit of his stomach, but Kyle couldn’t think about that now. He had to stop fighting, he had to be quiet; he couldn’t make this worse for Tweek.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Craig say something to Cartman but Kyle couldn’t hear it. The Commandant waved him off, said a few words under his breath and motioned for a soldier to get on with the punishment. A male soldier came up behind Tweek with a whip, readied it and swung. Kyle looked away when the sound of the whip met Tweek’s back, he couldn’t look, he was too ashamed in himself for him taking the blame. He couldn’t watch this. “Don’t look away Jew. This is your fault, you don’t get to look away,” _screw you fatass!_ Kyle growled deep in his throat, bit his lip and raised his head. ‘You wanna play this game fatass? Fine,’ so Kyle looked on, watching his best friend getting whipped, lash after lash. With each crack of the whip on the inside he was screaming, he was crying, he was begging God that something or someone would intervene and put a stop to this injustice, but he knew nothing would stop the retribution before his eyes. On the inside he was a crying child, but on the outside he was as he had always been in the Commandant’s eyes-defiant and strong. He owed this to Tweek, Tweek had been proud and strong to accept punishment on Kyle’s behalf and in turn Kyle wouldn’t let this break him. He wouldn’t do that to Tweek.

Kyle noticed that Tweek never once screamed, he would cry in his throat, moan, but never screamed; Kyle knew this was his own act of defiance and he knew it had nothing to do with the Commandant. Knowing the Commandant had his attention on Tweek for the moment, Kyle risked looking at his first officer, Craig. After hearing his history with Tweek, surely this was affecting him. They had been so close, Tweek admitted that he loved him, seeing his former best friend being whipped in front of him _has_ to rip at him in some way. The look of trauma on Craig’s face told him he was right.

//

Just as Kyle had pleaded with Cartman, so did Craig. The moment he ordered Tweek be taken panic had overcome Craig just much as it did Kyle. He had followed Cartman up onto the podium, whispering over his shoulder that none of this was right, that he should be punishing the Jew, not Tweek. But Cartman wouldn’t see reason. While Tweek was being bound to the post, Craig leaned in close to Cartman. “Wouldn’t you get more pleasure from seeing the Jew whipped? Don’t you want to see him bleed?” he was saying anything he could to convince Cartman to take the Jew over Tweek, but Cartman waved him off.

“This should please you to watch, seeing that fag being beaten. Unless there is something you want to tell me Craig?” Craig froze in silence, in fear. _God damnit Cartman._ “Just sit back and enjoy Lieutenant,” but there was no way he could enjoy this, not at all. _Tweek._

He wanted to look away, with everything inside him he wanted to look away, but after what Cartman had yelled at Kyle he knew Tweek would be punished more if _he_ looked away as well. So he watched while he was whipped and did nothing, though everything inside him screamed to do _something._

Tweek never screamed, why wasn’t he screaming? He had to be in pure agony. His striped shirt had been torn apart from the whip after the first few lashes, and his back was now covered in deep bleeding lacerations that were sure to scar; if they didn’t get infected first while they healed. Craig didn’t keep track of how many whips had already past, but it felt like way more than Cartman ordered. “Cartman isn’t this enough?” Craig whispered at his side, his hands forming fists. But Cartman didn’t answer, he continued to watch the Jew out in the crowd. What was so special about that Jew that he wanted Tweek to suffer this much? They had all been friends at some point hadn’t they?

After a bit Tweek had passed out, probably from the pain. His body was slack against the post, his back bleeding profusely from the savage marks that now mapped his back. Yet the soldier continued to whip him. This couldn’t possibly go on, surely with him now unconscious Cartman would put a stop to this. But he was wrong. He didn’t stop the whipping at all, he just continued to stare at the Jew with those wild crazy eyes of his. Craig knew what today meant to Cartman but this was ridiculous; Craig had never seen Cartman looked this deranged. Craig half expected Cartman to up and shoot the Jew at any given moment.  


“Sir, Tweek isn’t even conscious. Call this off, I think the Jew gets it,” Craig mumbled at his side and Cartman’s attention turned to the unconscious Tweek. For some reason while he was distracted, Craig chanced a look to the Jew that held the Commandant’s gaze so much, but Kyle was already looking at _him._ It was as though he was silently talking to Craig, pleading with him to make Cartman stop this. But why would Kyle- _he knew._ Tweek had told him about their past relationship and he was asking Craig as an old friend to help him. Kyle knew this was killing him just as much as the Jew. “Eric, as your friends…” Craig whispered while taking another chance to lightly touch Cartman’s shoulder in hopes the touch would draw him out of this deranged episode he was having. For a few moments nothing happened, everything was the same and Craig feared this would continue. But finally Cartman raised his hand.

“Enough! You may release him Lieutenant,” and with that Cartman turned to walk away, away from the podium, away from the crowd and never once looked back at anyone; not even Kyle.

As soon as Cartman gave the order to release Tweek, Craig had never moved so fast. “Get out of my way!” Craig angrily ordered at the soldier with the whip so he knew to back off. Craig pulled a knife from his belt, cut the binds at his wrists to free him. Tweek’s limp body fell from the post and into Craig’s arms. “It’s okay Tweek, I’ve got you, you’ll be okay, I promise. I’ve got you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologize for the delay with this chapter. I had been very busy with my job and just exhausted so much. I had also been dog sitting on the side. Did I mention I also couldn't move or use my hand for a few days? Oh so much fun. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, well maybe not "enjoyed" but you all get it. ^__^ Let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

_//"Someone told me I should take caution when it comes to love, I did. And you were strong and I was not, my illusion my mistake,”//_

Craig had a very vague memory of getting Tweek off the podium, through the crowd of prisoners, and leaving the camp through a back gate to carry the blond over his shoulder to the Villa; he had hoped he had accomplished this feat with unseen eyes, but that didn’t matter to him now. What mattered was the beaten and battered coffee addict that now lay upon his stomach on his own bed, being seen to by a Doctor. Dr. Wyatt was restricted to the Villa and its inhabitants only, and if one of its residents ordered him to work on a case personally, he was under strict orders to keep it quiet and under the table. What happened in the Villa, would remain in the confines of the Villa. So when Craig brought Tweek in and ordered Dr. Wyatt to treat his wounds, he was not allowed to deny him; even if Tweek was a prisoner.

Craig watched the Doctor work from the doorway, he felt like he would just be in the way if he was actually in the room. Dr. Wyatt had to first clean all the blood off his back before he could even go about dressing his cuts. There was a bucket of warm water next to the bed that he kept dumping a rag in, ringing it out, and carefully wiping Tweek’s back of the blood; the water soon became more blood than water and the Doctor had to keep getting new water. After he was clean of the blood, Dr. Wyatt reached into his open bag beside the bed and took out a vial and syringe. Craig flinched. “What is that?”

“Relax, Lieutenant,” Dr. Wyatt said with a smile as he attached the needle to the syringe, turned the vial of liquid upside down and loaded the syringe. “I’m giving him a small sedative, I need to sew a few of these lacerations because they are so deep. I assume you want him in as little pain as possible, yes?” Craig relaxed his shoulders and let out a breath.

“Just fix him up please,” and with a nod, Dr. Wyatt returned his attention to Tweek, shooting the sedative into his arm. Tweek may have already been unconscious, but he could in fact wake up at any moment and be in excruciating pain, so yes, Craig was highly thankful for the sedative, and even more thankful once the Doctor knew the sedative had kicked in and began dress his wounds with alcohol. Craig didn’t even want to think how painful that could have been if he was awake. After his wounds were cleaned and disinfected, Dr. Wyatt went on with sewing up the deepest of his lacerations from the whip.

While Dr. Wyatt was sewing up a third gash, Craig heard heavy boot steps coming down the hall. Clyde usually shuffled when he walked, so he knew these boots belonged to the Commandant; even around the Villa he walked with authority and intimidation. But Craig wasn’t about to be intimidated at all, he didn’t care what Cartman had to say, he wasn’t about to let him take Tweek away. Craig straightened himself in the doorway of his room, showing that he would deny Cartman entry even if he ordered him to move aside. Within moments the Commandant was upon him, standing inches away and inches taller than Craig with fists at his sides. In the past Craig was ashamed to admit that he had feared Cartman, but not in this moment. Right now Craig gave off a certain aura of bravery, and a look of defiance, a look that read “Try me, I dare you,” a look that made Cartman smirk in amusement, probably because he saw it so much from that Jew he seemed fascinated with. Cartman looked over Craig’s shoulder to the wounded boy on the bed, and then back to Craig. Craig opened his mouth to speak, but Cartman instead just silently turned and continued his walk down the hall. As much as Craig wanted to question why Cartman didn’t punish him for bringing Tweek back to the Villa and having their private doctor see to his wounds, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

After a while Craig entered the room just as Dr. Wyatt was putting away his tools. “He’ll be fine, Lieutenant Tucker. His wounds are cleaned, stitched up and I applied an antibacterial cream before I applied the gauze,” Tweek’s back was covered in gauze just as the Doctor said. “I will leave the cream, extra gauze and tape here since they will have to be changed regularly to avoid infection. Do I need to come back and dress them, or-”

“No, I can do it. I’ll take care of him now, thank you Dr. Wyatt, and thank you for keeping this secret.” The doctor stood with his bag in hand, placed his hand on Craig’s shoulder and squeezed.

“I am a Doctor, Lieutenant. We took a vow to save lives, we don’t pick sides. Take care of him Lieutenant and call me if something comes up,” Craig nodded and smiled in gratitude and the Doctor left closing the door behind him.

Craig took the seat by the bed that the Doctor previously occupied, he thought if he sat on the bed it would cause harm to Tweek. Minutes past and Craig didn’t say a single word, just watched Tweek in his sedated state, his eyes traveling every now and then to the gauze on his back and cursing himself for letting him get so wounded. “You know, my mom used to tell me that no one should live with regrets, that everything happens for a reason and we should just accept things as they are. But I have so many regrets Tweek,” Tweek’s pale hand was up by his face and Craig took it in his own. “I regret ever letting Cartman get you up on that platform, I regret not stepping in, I regret being afraid of that stupid fatass. I regret calling you a freak and I am so sorry for that Tweek. Because of this place I turned into one of those bullies from school, and yes, I regret signing up for the army. I’ll be honest Tweek I had no idea about all of this, the camps, rounding up people; had I known I would have never signed up in the first place,” but once Craig entered the regime it was much too late, he had to follow orders blindly. “But do you know what I regret the most Tweek?” instead of just holding Tweek’s hand he readjusted it so their hands were laced and he squeezed them.

“I regret not telling you how I really felt, that day when you told me. You were so brave when you confided in me your feelings, but I was a coward, Tweek. I left the very next day and joined the regime. I told myself that I did it for you, I felt that if I wasn’t around then the other kids wouldn’t bully you for liking another boy. I hoped if I left the rumors would stop and you would be safe. But it doesn’t matter how I try to justify what I did, the point remains that I was a coward Tweek. I should have stayed, I should have continued to defend you against everyone, I should have protected you. If I hadn’t joined this damn army you may have never even gotten captured!” He bit his trembling lip from irritation at the thought. “If I had just been brave like you none of this would have happened, Tweek. That night you looked into my eyes and you told me that you loved me, I was shocked but a part of me already knew because I felt the same way Tweek. I grew to love you as you loved me. I shouldn’t have runaway Tweek, I should have told you right then and there that I was in love with you and wanted to be more than friends. I’m sorry Tweek, I’m so sorry,” and Craig did something that never came easy to him, he cried. Craig wasn’t the crying type at all, he had always been very good at containing his emotions and keeping it together. But when it came to Tweek, well all bets were off to say the least. Craig lowered his head to their entwined hands and silently cried, his regrets pouring from him in salty tears.

“Do you know what the hardest part was?” Craig jerked his head up to see Tweek’s eyes opened and he tried to sit up.

“Tweek you shouldn’t be moving,” Craig told him in worry and the blond gave up.

“Can’t if I tried, which I just did. Gah! Whatever,” Craig fought back a laugh. _That’s the spunky Tweek I remember._

“The doctor gave you a sedative, you may not really be able to move your body for a bit. Though I guess you just heard everything huh?” Craig said with a blush, a blush that Tweek returned.

“Yeah, I could hear everything going on I just couldn’t feel anything,”

“Tweek I-”

“Please Craig. It’s my turn to talk,” and so Craig remained silent, allowing Tweek to speak as much as he wanted; hell, he had every right to yell at Craig. “Do you know what the hardest part was? The hardest part was not knowing. Do you know what went through my head that morning I woke up and didn’t see you? Not even at school,” Craig bit his lip looking ashamed. He should have known, he knew Tweek’s anxiety better than anyone and this time Craig was the cause of it. Damn his self loathing went even deeper now. “I thought I scared you away, I didn’t think you wanted to be friends with me anymore. I had no idea where you went and I didn’t know why you left, but my head told me over and over it was my fault because I admitted how I felt towards you. I finally spoke up for myself and lost my best friend because of it.” That was a heavy blow to Craig’s heart. He should’ve known, god damnit he should have known. It probably took so much for Tweek to tell him he loved him and for Craig to not say anything back and then disappear, he probably became even more introverted after that. “I didn’t speak much after you left,” so his guess was right. “Of course I still had my ticks and nervous breakdowns, but I didn’t make friends again after that. Not until..” Tweek smiled and shook his head.

“My point is, Craig, I was alone again and it hurt. It really hurt after you left. I really believed we could get through all the talk, all the bullying, all the negativity if we just had each other. Even if you didn’t like me back I still wanted to be your friend. I needed you Craig,” Craig looked down at their hands and noticed Tweek’s own hand was trying to tighten itself around Craig’s. He was slowly getting feeling back in his body it seemed. “I still need you Craig, I didn’t mean it when I said that I hate you. I was just angry, hell I was pissed off. That after all that time without you the first time I see you again you’re a goddamn Nazi taking orders from Cartman! Cartman! I mean what the hell Craig?!” and Craig thought he couldn’t possibly feel worse but he was so very wrong. Craig rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and sighed.

“Yeah I didn’t know what I was getting into and that’s the truth Tweek, and I especially didn’t expect to be taking orders from Cartman. Look Tweek, if I could go back and fix what happened I would, I would in a heartbeat without hesitation,” Tweek smiled at the determined look on his face.

“It is what it is Craig, there is no changing it. Did you mean what you said? That you feel the same way about me? And if it’s true you’re not just saying that because you feel guilty about what happened to me today?”

“Of course I feel guilty, Tweek, but that had no influence on my feelings for you. I loved you since the day you told me, I mean hell I loved you before you even told me. I’m sorry I was such a coward and couldn’t-” before he knew what was happening Tweek had grabbed him by the shirt, yanked him forward and kissed him. Craig was in shock and for a few seconds frozen, but finally his body and mind caught up to each other and realized Tweek was kissing him! Craig inhaled, cupped his hands against Tweek’s cheeks and kissed him back. This was so much more than just a simple kiss for Craig, it was an apology for all that he had done to Tweek, for everything he put him through, but it was also proof, proof that all along he loved Tweek; unconditionally.  
They only broke apart when they needed air and Craig heard Tweek wince in pain. “Tweek I’m-” but Tweek put two fingers over Craig’s lips to shush him.

“I’ve waited a few years to kiss you, don’t ruin it with some stupid apology,” Craig didn’t even hold back the laugh that rumbled in his chest.

“Hey I’m not the one who fought my sedation and kissed you,” he said sarcastically. Tweek smirked and laid back down fully and closed his eyes.

“Worth it, totally worth it,” this was definitely the Tweek he remembered, _his_ Tweek. Tweek had always been different around Craig, well he shouldn’t say different, Tweek was _himself_ when he was around Craig; he didn’t even have his stutter. Craig always felt special that Tweek seemed to come out of his shell around him and no one else. Well…

“Hey Tweek, anything going on between you and that Jew?” he felt stupid as soon as the words escaped him. Tweek’s eyes popped opened and he squinted them at Craig.

“Craig Tucker, are you jealous?” that brought a bright blush to the Lieutenant’s cheeks and he looked away quickly with a look that said “I could care less” but Tweek could definitely read between the lines. “Relax, Craig, we’re just friends, Kyle is actually the first friend I made since you. _He_ wanted to be _my_ friend. That never happens,” Craig looked back at him with his eyebrow raised.

“Hey! If you recall I was the one who wanted to be your friend first, you kept trying to push me away but I was persistent,” he said trying to sound proud of himself. Tweek giggled.

“Oh yeah I definitely recall. If by persistent you mean being an annoying asshole then yes, very persistent,” they both shared a laugh. All of this was just coming so natural to them, as if they never spent time away from each other, and as if there wasn’t a war going on outside the room. But reality was cruel and needed to be faced. “Craig, you do realize that nothing can change don’t you?” Craig’s heart dropped to his stomach.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a war going on, Craig. I am a prisoner in a concentration camp, you’re a Nazi soldier. This…” he gestured between the both of them. “…can’t exactly happen,” as much as he felt his heart breaking, he knew Tweek was right, but he wasn’t about to just sit back without fighting.

“I could talk to Cartman, get you moved in here, maybe do work like Clyde does around here,”

“Clyde is here?” Tweek blinked and shook his head not wanting to get distracted. “No Craig, I can’t. I don’t want special treatment just because I’m in love with the Commandant’s lacky,” Tweek may have been smiling when he said it, but Craig still felt slightly offended.

“I am anything _but_ Cartman’s lacky, Tweek,” Tweek placed his hand back in Craig’s.

“My point is, I’m a prisoner and I don’t want special treatment, I’m not better than anyone else here and don’t want to be seen as such. Besides, I don’t want you going to Cartman for anything even on my account. You know Cartman, he’ll think you owe him and will probably use me against you in some way,” Tweek definitely wasn’t wrong there, Cartman was a manipulative asshole.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Tweek gripped his hand tighter.

“It is, but I need to ask you a favor.” Craig found himself smirking.

“You kiss the First Officer of the camp and just assume you can be asking for favors?”

“Psft, I think I have the right to be making demands Mr. Tucker,” Craig smiled.

“Fair enough, what is it Tweek?”

“Sheila Broflovski in the women’s ward, will you check her status, please?”

“You mean see if she is alive?” Tweek nodded. “I assume she is Kyle’s mother?” Again Tweek nodded. “You sure there is nothing going on between you two?” this got him a punch in the arm from Tweek, who hissed in his own pain. “Haha, karma for punching your lover boy,” Tweek rolled his eyes.

“I should punch you again for that comment.” Craig brought Tweek’s hand to his lips and kissed it.

“Relax Tweek, I trust you. I’ll check on her tomorrow and give you the information to relay to Kyle. But you know Tweek, if you want to go back to the barracks I have a condition of my own,” Tweek rolled his eyes.

“Of course you do,”

“While you’re healing, Tweek, stay here. For just a few more days let us be Tweek and Craig, not a prisoner and first officer,” the smile that formed on Tweek’s face made Craig’s heart skip a beat but then started to beat double time when he saw tears form in those baby blue eyes.

“You’d better get in this bed before I pick you up and throw you down on it and possibly reopening all these damn cuts,” Craig took that not just as a “yes” but a “hell yes” and Craig couldn’t be more satisfied.

“You’re gonna have to scoot over ya know, do you need help?”

“I got it,” while Tweek wiggled his way to the other side of the bed, remaining on his stomach, Craig took off his boots and his jacket to where he was in his uniform pants and a gray tank top; he would shower and change after Tweek was asleep. Craig laid down and Tweek spooned against him, resting his head on his chest and his arm about his waist. They had done this so many times as friends, but now that they both knew there was something more, it felt even more right and perfect.

“Any pain?” Craig asked in concern while he buried his hand in Tweek’s hair and received a soft moan from the boy when he did so.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” that comment reminded Craig of something.

“Tweek, when you were up on that post, why didn’t you scream? You had to have been in horrible pain,” he felt Tweek’s body stiffen and he began to pet his hair in hopes he would relax again; it worked.

“I wanted to prove myself in some way, in that moment though I couldn’t tell you who I was trying to prove myself to. I just wanted to show that even though I was being beaten, I couldn’t _be_ beaten you know? And if you want to hear the actual truth? As cliché as it sounds, the pain of the whip was nothing compared to the pain I felt in my heart when you left.” That hurt, that really did hurt Craig, but he deserved it, he deserved it and so much more for what he did to Tweek.

“I can’t say I’m sorry enough Tweek,” Tweek shook his head on Craig’s chest.

“Just remember to check on Sheila, and since I will be staying here for a few days, you’ll have to be the one to tell him the news on his mother. You may want to tell him that I’m okay too,” Craig chuckled.

“You think he’ll believe anything that comes out of my mouth? I’m Cartman’s “lacky” after all,” Tweek snickered and rolled his eyes.

“He’ll believe you if it comes from me, just say pinky promise and he’ll believe you,” Craig raised his brow.

“Pinky promise? Is that some kind of code?”

“Just do it you jerk face,” and then they were silent, just savoring the moment between them, embracing their rekindled feelings for the other. Craig didn’t know how much time had passed, but he knew Tweek was close to passing out again, from the sedative, pain, or exhaustion he didn’t know; probably all three.

“Will you wait for me Tweek? Wait until this war is over?” Tweek hugged his middle tighter.

“I’ve waited almost five years for you, I can wait a little longer,”

//

Luckily when Craig pulled Kyle into an alcove he was already alone and away from prying eyes. Craig pushed him against the wall with his hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t scream. “I’m here on behalf of Tweek, if I let you go will you please not scream?” Kyle nodded against the wall of the building behind him. Craig released him and took a few steps back but remained on guard, they both did. “First he wanted me to tell you that he is fine and is healing, he’ll be back in the barracks after he has recovered,” Kyle narrowed his eyes.

“Why would I believe anything you say? If you haven’t noticed I’m just a Jew, and you’re a Nazi lacky,” Craig rolled his eyes.

“Did you and Tweek get together and make fun of me behind my back?” The confused look on Kyle’s face reminded him to get back to the point. “Ok look I knew you wouldn’t believe me even saying it was on Tweek’s behalf, so Tweek told me to tell you some super secret code word between you two. Pinky promise I think it was,” that got Kyle’s attention and he stood straight, crossing his arms.

“Thank you for letting me know he will be okay, is there anything else? I might be late for roll call,” Craig looked from side to side to make sure no one was watching them, soldiers especially. 

“As a favor to Tweek I have some intel for you, Sheila Broflovski is alive and stable,” Kyle swayed on the spot. “Hey are you ok?” Craig asked in worry he didn’t know he possessed for someone other than Tweek. Craig tried to steady him but found himself in Kyle’s vise grip embrace.

“Thank you, Thank you Craig,” he was crying, he could hear it in his voice.

“Um yeah,” Craig didn’t really know what to do with his hands so he only gave Kyle’s back two pats and then pulled him off; he wasn’t used to physical touches, only with Tweek. “Now hurry up to roll call,” and with that Craig and Kyle parted ways. Unbeknownst to them, the Commandant was on the opposite side of the building and he too took his leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels all around! I know this seems like it's all Creek, but I assure you the main ship in this is Kyman. Tweek and Craig just already had history and Cartman was still trying to break Kyle. I swear this is Kyman ♡  
> Thank you so much to all those who have commented and left kudos! I can't believe how many I have so far! It really helps with the muse! Let me know what you guys think of this one!  
> Oh and Happy Birthday to my younger sister who turns 24 today! And happy birthday to my "fanhoe" tomorrow! Love you guys!


	9. Chapter 9

_//"Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight?”_

September ended in the blink of an eye, of course that was only after Tweek came back to the barracks fully recovered from the whipping; “fully recovered” was putting it lightly because Kyle knew he walked away with many scars, mentally and physically. Tweek had only been gone a week, but to Kyle it felt much longer. The Jew didn’t realize how much he had come to rely on Tweek in the camp as more than a friend, but as an anchor. Kyle had been doing so much to keep his own family going over these months in the camp that he, without realizing it, counted on Tweek to keep _him_ going. Tweek had become a kind of escape from the brutal reality that was around them every day; they would try to make the best out of any dismal situations by joking and laughing, even making fun of the guards and soldiers. They had become best friends, friends who could keep the happiness going between them even in the darkest times in this war.

The first night without Tweek, Kyle was restless and could not for the life of him get any sleep. He became so used to having the twitchy boy next to him that it just felt wrong sleeping alone. Kyle also felt more vulnerable and exposed, as if his body and mind were more aware that the demons of the camp could now reach him. Without Tweek, he felt alone. He had his brother and father, but _he_ took care of _them_ himself. Tweek and Kyle took care of each other.

Ike had offered to sleep with Kyle each night that Tweek was away, but Kyle denied him. Ike slept with their father and he knew it was comforting for the both of them, and if Kyle were being honest, he didn’t want to seem weak in his families eyes. For all they knew, he didn’t need Tweek when in fact he did and missed him deeply. Tweek had only been Kyle’s friend for several months, yet he missed Tweek more in one week than he missed his friend Stan all that year in hiding; guess fighting for your life everyday in a war would bring people close together more than others.

Something else that bothered Kyle, well it didn’t exactly bother Kyle, it was just something he noticed and it was different. The entire week that Tweek had been recovering, Commandant Cartman was also missing in action. Everyday that week there was no Cartman griping at him, no Commandant messing up his work to make him start over, no “fatass” watching his every move. Kyle was supposed to feel thankful wasn’t he? Then why _didn’t_ he? Why was it every time he looked over his shoulder he was _disappointed_ that he didn’t see Commandant Cartman? Disappointment? What was wrong with him? Clearly all those days in the blistering sun was getting to him.

Tweek had returned to the barracks after lights out and had a prisoner not announced “Oh good, the freak is back” Kyle would have never heard him come in that night. Kyle had never flown so fast out of any bed in his life to run up to his friend and embrace him as if they spent years apart. “Gah! Kyle! St-still hurt s-some!” Kyle jumped back so fast as if he had been electrocuted and immediately started to apologize to Tweek, but told him how happy he had been that he was back; even more happy that he was alive.

Over the days that followed Tweek had told him that Craig had nursed him back to health, treated his wounds and kept him medicated properly. Tweek had even confided in Kyle about what went on between him and Craig at the Villa, after swearing over a pinky promise to never tell. But Kyle had drawn his own conclusions when he saw the “love bites” at the base of Tweek’s neck and on his shoulder when his oversized shirt would show his skin. Tweek tried to hide them as best he could, not from Kyle, but from the other prisoners; he didn’t want conclusions made negatively or rumors starting. Only Kyle knew the truth about what really happened between Tweek and Craig, and Kyle would never reveal their secret reunion.

With Tweek’s return, someone else finally showed their fat face again. The Commandant. It took everything in Kyle the first day he saw Cartman back to not charge over and slug him in his fat jaw. He had the balls to do that to Tweek, but then doesn’t show his face for a full week? Was he ashamed? Too ashamed to return to the camp and dish out more orders? What a coward! But deep down he wasn’t sure that Tweek was really the reason he wanted to deck Cartman and that really messed with his anxiety. 

October brought more death than the previous month. Each morning that Kyle awoke there was another dead body in the barracks. He wanted to help carry the dead out to roll call, but his father wouldn’t allow it. Gerald and an older man that slept near them would always be the ones to carry out the dead; Kyle just prayed his father wouldn’t be made a body retriever. During these months he had never seen so much death, granted he had never seen death before the camp, but this was still too much for any human being to handle. No one should be subjected to this much tyranny, despair and death. Kyle suspected that the reaper took up permanent residence in this camp and constantly worked over time.

If someone asked Kyle when the nightmares started, he could give no absolute date. He had them so much that he felt like they had always been there, so much that he couldn’t remember _not_ having them before his family went into hiding. His father and brother had offered to listen to Kyle talk about his nightmares, but Kyle saw no point. Talking about them wouldn’t make them stop and he knew for damn certain countless others in the barracks were plagued by them as well; Kyle wouldn’t see himself as a special case. Nowadays Kyle had no idea what it was like to have normal dreams. _Normal._ Even his definition of normal had drastically changed. Things he used to find terrifying, was now his normal. Seeing a man being beaten to death, frequent whippings on public display so everyone had to watch, death by a gunshot to the head, people dying from exhaustion and lack of proper meals; all death sentences were ordered by the Commandant, many even carried out by him. All of this was normal now to Kyle. But what was the most normal to the Jew, was going to sleep hearing another man’s screams, it happened almost every night now that instead of scaring Kyle, it almost soothed him like a lullaby. He would fall asleep and wake up to screams, it was just _normal._

October slipped into November, it was the middle of autumn and Kyle found himself daydreaming frequently of the changes in color the leaves took this time of year. There were no trees around the camp, he knew there was a forest miles away, he had seen it in the distance when they dug in the trenches just outside the camp, but from behind the high walls the outside world was a far off dream. The memory of the bright and vibrant leaves in autumn was the only thing that brought color to this dismal black and grey prison.

“Have you ever dove in a pile of leaves, Tweek?” Kyle asked him with a small laugh. The two were sitting by themselves off in a corner of the barracks after their long day of labor.

“Gah! Wh-why would I want t-to? That sounds d-dangerous. What if I get im-impaled by a stick? Or what if I f-fall through to another universe?” Kyle’s first instinct was to laugh at his mindset, but he knew these were legit fears his anxiety made up so he quickly caught himself and smiled.

“The possibilities of that happening are a million to one.” Tweek’s eye twitched.

“Those odds are still too h-high. Knowing my bad luck I w-would be that one percent.” The two shared a laugh and Kyle rolled his eyes.

“My point is, it’s fun. When this war ends I’m gonna make you the biggest leaf pile and we’re diving in.” Before Tweek could even open his mouth to retaliate, Kyle added. “And I pinky promise I won’t let you fall into another dimension,” they both did this very often. They would both make promises of things they would do together when the war was over, it gave them something to look forward to, it also helped keep their hope alive knowing there was something they were reaching for down the line. Tweek even promised Kyle free coffee for life at his family's coffee shop that he had worked at.

“Alright Kyle, y-you make the leaf pile a-and I’ll make the coffee.”

“Deal.” Before they even had a chance to laugh, a familiar voice echoed through the barracks.

“916509!” It was Craig, standing at the entrance to the barracks, calling out Kyle’s number. Kyle’s heart dropped and both him and Tweek went stiff. Why was Craig calling for Kyle and at this late hour? Soldiers try to avoid the prisoners after light out as much as possible because naturally they want to sleep. “I will repeat myself only once, prisoner 916509!” Kyle began to stand but Tweek grabbed his hand in panic. Kyle smiled and squeezed it to assure him that he would be okay, that he wasn’t afraid for whatever was about to happen. After Tweek let him go he stood and started for Craig, he saw his brother and father in his peripheral vision looking very worried; he knew Tweek would put them at ease after he left. He reached Craig who immediately turned to leave. “Follow me.”

//

Just after evening roll call the Commandant and Craig retired to the sitting room at the Villa to play a game of chess. Some other guy in charge of another camp sent Cartman the chess set for his birthday back in October. He didn’t care for the game but it was something to do to pass the time and keep his mind busy. Cartman and Craig spent several evenings playing chess, Cartman winning some, Craig winning some. Craig never threw any games, never went easy on Cartman and he would never admit to it, but he respected that about Craig. “Check sir,” Craig said moving his knight in line of his king. Cartman huffed and moved his king out of the way, taking out one of Craig’s rooks in the process. Just as Craig was making his move, Clyde came into the room.

“Sir, a letter came from the Fuhrer.” Cartman took his gaze away from the board to look at the letter in Clyde’s hand.

“Probably late birthday wishes, I bet he was too busy to send them.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Craig roll his eyes. “I saw that, Lieutenant.” Cartman took the envelope from Clyde and opened it. “I saw that too, you asshole,” Cartman said to Craig, who huffed and put back Cartman’s chess piece he moved. Cartman unfolded the letter and as his eyes scanned it he realized Clyde was still standing over his shoulder. “Can I help you with something Clyde?”

“Oh, no sir. Is there anything you need?” Cartman waved him off.

“No, now get out.” Clyde nodded and took his leave, rolling his eyes as he went. Cartman turned his attention back to the letter in his hand. “Well what do you know, it’s an invitation,” Craig raised an eyebrow and looked at Cartman questioningly.

“He’s not seriously throwing _you_ a party.”

“Ay! I _deserve_ a party,” but he didn’t care if he had one or not, he hadn’t had a party since he was a kid. They weren’t important to him anymore like when he was a child. Cartman cleared his throat and began to read the letter aloud. “Commandant Eric Theodore Cartman, and First Officer Craig Tucker, your attendance is required on the 31st of December. Only the highest ranking officers will be in attendance and all will be meeting to hear an important announcement from our Fuhrer. To celebrate the success of our beloved Fuhrer we will all be-Oh you gotta be fucking kidding me?” Cartman snapped and then turned his lip up in a snarl.

“What’s the problem?” Cartman rubbed his temple and let out a heavy sigh to continue to read the invitation.

“We will all be dancing the Fuhrer’s favorite dance, the Viennese Waltz,” Cartman leaned back in his seat and tilted his head up, groaning the whole time.

“You can’t be serious?” Craig moaned snatching the letter away from Cartman’s fingers.

“Oh I’m seriously, Craig,”

“We have to dance at this party? I don’t know how to dance. Do you know how to dance?” Craig asked him in small panic.

“Oh yeah, let me just get my tutu out of my closet, of course I don’t know how to fucking dance you asshole.” Cartman was saying a million unpleasant things inside his head right now.

“What if we don’t dance at this party and just attend?” Craig suggested and Cartman shot him a glare so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. 

“Don’t be stupid, Craig. It said the dance is the Fuhrer’s favorite so that means it’s a requirement.” Besides, when something was required from the Fuhrer you either do said action or it was punishable by death; Cartman wasn’t ignorant to that fact. “To not dance at the Fuhrer’s party would be an embarrassment and very disrespectful, Craig. The letter also said only the most important of us are attending to hear an announcement from the Fuhrer, which means this is top secret.”  
Cartman knew he should feel honored about being part of a secret meeting of Elite with the Fuhrer, but right now he was more nauseated than anything. “Please tell me you know someone who dances?”

Craig didn’t even answer him, he only gave him a look that read ‘You’re kidding right’ and Cartman sighed. “I am not about to ask one of my men, that would be embarrassing. Uh! Shit!” Cartman was trying to wrack his brain but nothing was coming to him. He couldn’t embarrass himself by telling his men he couldn’t dance, but he also couldn’t just up and leave the camp to learn. What the hell were they going to do?

“What about that Jew?”

“The fuck are you talking about Craaaig?” Craig winced when he drug his name out.

“The Jew, sir. If you remember when we captured him he was dancing with his brother, wasn’t he? You could clearly see he knew what he was doing, am I wrong?” Cartman thought back to the day Craig mentioned. No he was not wrong, Kyle definitely knew what he was doing when his brother had no idea. It was obvious Kyle came from a dancing background from his straight lines in his arms and his legs, yet his movements had fluidity to them.

“You’re not wrong, Lieutenant,” Cartman said quietly, considering the situation. He wouldn’t have to pay Kyle because of his status, and he wouldn’t be ridiculed by his fellow soldiers. “This would have to be done in secret,” Cartman ordered.

“Of course sir,” Craig said plainly. Cartman thoughts for a bit longer and until he made his decision.

“Go get the Jew, now.”

//

Kyle was livid, fuming with anger, but he couldn’t say anything within the presence of the Commandant. “Are you gonna answer me Jew?” Cartman asked after he told Kyle of his plan to have him teach him and Craig how to dance, Cartman more so than Craig. Kyle wanted to answer, _oh hell yes_ he wanted to answer, but he knew his mouth would run away with him so he quietly seethed, on the verge of exploding any minute as he glared at Cartman. “How about, while you’re here I give you permission to speak freely, if you have something to say you may do so without punishment.” This shocked and paralyzed Kyle for a moment. Was he serious? No, obviously this was some test or some trick. There was no way Commandant Cartman would allow him to speak his mind without repercussions, there had to be a catch. As if hearing Kyle’s thoughts, Cartman spoke again. “I’m seriously Kyle, no strings, no catch. Speak freely.” with a deep breath, Kyle did.

“You’ve got to be kidding me right?! You think I’ll just agree to teach you how to dance because you ordered me too? Do you seriously think I’ll teach you after what you did to Tweek? After everything you’ve done since we’ve been here? After the lives you took?!” Cartman definitely shouldn’t have given Kyle such leniency because now he was just spewing from boiling anger over the past few months and even though Cartman said he wouldn’t be punished his anger would probably have Cartman taking back his words. “Why would I ever help a monster like you?” He didn’t yell it, but the words still held venom as if he did.

For a brief moment Cartman had let his guard down and Kyle saw it. His words actually stung Cartman, but that didn’t make sense. He has to be aware of what a monster he is, surely this wasn’t news to him? For that brief moment Kyle saw a flicker of pain in Cartman’s amber eyes, but just like that it was gone and Kyle could tell Cartman wanted to strike him, but he didn’t. Cartman took a deep breath and stood straight. “You will agree to my demands Kahl, because if you remember I am the Commandant of this camp. I can personally make anyone’s life a living hell here, I can even kill who I want to.” Kyle glared at him.

“What does my life matter? Maybe I’d rather die than help you.” Again he could see the pain in Cartman’s eyes from his words. Why were his words affecting him so? He was a Nazi, he didn’t have feelings. They were all monsters, weren’t they? A long time ago Kyle would have said they were just lost human beings, misguided and following orders blindly, but after the horrors he had witnessed in the camp there was no way they were normal human beings. Why did Cartman seem to feel? But like earlier, the pain was gone in a flash and the monster was back.

“Your life may not matter Kahl, but I’m sure your families lives do. Your father, your brother, and even your mother,” Kyle’s face paled. _Shit._ “Should you choose not to agree to teach me, I can make their lives a living hell, maybe they even meet their untimely end.” This got Kyle’s blood boiling.

“Don’t you lay a hand on them, I swear to God-”

“But, do what I say and I can assure you they will not be harmed.” Kyle’s eyes widened.

“Even my mother?”

“Even your mother.” This still did not prove that Cartman was human at all, he was just desperate, and desperation made you do things you normally wouldn’t do. There was no more to it. Kyle was now actually considering it. He would do anything to keep his family safe, even teach the Commandant how to dance. “Tell you want Kahl, I’ll give you something else as an insensitive,” Cartman pointed to his own face. “I’ll let you have one free swing, again no strings. I’m sure you-” Kyle didn’t even take time out to think, he punched Cartman right in the side of his face. “God dammit mother bitch! God! I didn’t actually think you’d do it, Jesus Christ!” Cartman stumbled from the impact of his right hook and held his cheek in pain. “Ah! That’s gonna bruise you fucking Jew!” But Kyle didn’t feel guilty at all, he didn’t even feel worried that Cartman would take back his word and punish him. He didn’t care. That felt _damn_ good. The fatass deserved a punch to the face and more.

“Alright sir, if I have your word my family will be safe I will teach you how to dance,” Kyle offered his hand to the Commandant to shake it.

“You have my word,” and Cartman took Kyle’s hand, Kyle didn’t expect it to feel so warm…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all my readers here in Texas, please stay safe in this hurricane. Hurricane Harvey is damaging so much in its path and we have so much flooding. Please please stay safe. If you need to talk at all I would love to help. Rescues and first responders have been a blessing. Praying for my Texas. Please stay safe.  
> Hope you guys liked this one. And here we pave the way for Cartman and Kyle! Let me know what you think.


	10. Chapter 10

_//"I just know there’s no escape now once it set it’s eyes on you, but I won’t run have to stare it in the eye,”//_

“I have everything you need here,” Clyde said, patting the neatly folded pair of clothes in his arms. “Shampoo, conditioner and soap are already in the shower, and there are fresh towels hanging on the hook behind the door,” he said gesturing to the bathroom door behind him. Kyle smiled sadly at the clothes in his arms.

“Do I have to wear new clothes? Can’t I just wear my uniform?” It wasn’t that the clothes weren’t his style, they were actually pretty nice being black slacks and a plain white shirt, but he didn’t feel right putting them on. The clothes were a lie, an illusion, a band aide, because at the end of the day he was still a prisoner in a concentration camp.

“Commandant’s orders Kyle, but I am washing your uniform so it will be clean and dry before you head back so just leave your clothes in here.”

“Thanks Clyde,” Kyle did have to admit a clean uniform would be a nice change from it being filthy and smelly day in and day out. Clyde placed the clean clothes on the bathroom counter and sighed.

“I know this is the part where I’m supposed to say the Commandant isn’t really that bad a guy, a sweet person when you get to know him. That his bark is worse than his bite,” Kyle met Clyde’s gaze in confusion. Clyde laughed. “But that would be a lie, he’s an asshole through and through. A real jerk.” The boys both started laughing and Kyle was able to relax a bit. After getting control of their laughter Clyde moved towards the door and reached for the knob. “Meet Cartman in the living room when you’re done.”

“Cartman? You don’t address him formally?” Clyde opened the door and stepped out.

“Hell no, it pisses him off and believe me ruffling his feathers is fun,” and with a wink Clyde left and shut the bathroom door behind him. Kyle understood but wasn’t exactly sure he agreed. Whereas Clyde “ruffled his feathers”, Kyle challenged him and defied him at every turn, showing his rebellious side he got from his mother. It wasn’t so much fun as it did help keep him alive and sane; god only knows how.

Kyle turned the water on in the bath and once it was warm enough he turned it on the shower setting. He stripped and stepped in, a wave of pleasure seethed through him when he did. Not pleasure in the sexual sense, but in relaxation and bliss. In the barracks showers he only had hot water for a very short time, barely even a minute and the water pressure was laughable. This was bliss, pure heavenly bliss. Kyle gave himself this moment to relax and let his guard down for he knew he would need to have every wall up when he met with the Commandant in a few minutes. 

When he entered the Villa not too long ago he had realized that Craig wasn’t there and Cartman had informed him that it would just be the two of them tonight. _Lovely._ Tweek had assured him that Craig would look out for him while he was in the presence of the Commandant as a favor to Tweek. But now he would be all alone, a fact he wasn’t sure he was comfortable with. _Oh well, nothing to be done now._ Besides Kyle could take care of himself, he wasn’t doing this for the Commandant, or even himself, he was doing it for his family. Cartman gave him his word he would keep them safe during their stay here, but could he trust a Nazi Commandant? Probably not, but he would have to take the chance.

//

The Commandant uneasily paced in the living room of the Villa, waiting anxiously for Kyle to get out of the shower and for them to start, well, he was actually waiting for this night to be over. He had allowed Kyle to shower not out of the kindness of his heart, but because he didn’t want a filthy Jew stinking up his Villa. The last thing he wanted to do was take dance lessons, and from a Jew no less. They had agreed to meet three times a week, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays after the prisoners retired to the barracks. Some nights Craig would join them, others he wouldn’t, like tonight. Cartman made sure Craig had rounds of guard duty so he would be busy tonight; he didn’t want Craig to see him make an ass of himself during this first lesson. He knew this was going to be embarrassing to say the least.

“Damnit, what’s taking that Jew so long? I swear if he used up all the hot water in this place before-”  
Cartman had turned to head towards the bathroom when he stopped dead in his tracks at the Jew entering the living room. If Cartman hadn’t known Kyle by his flaming red hair and green eyes he would swear this wasn’t the same Jew he had captured. His legs looked longer in the black slacks, and even though his white shirt hung off his body as if it were five sizes too big, it still made him look-acceptable. And his hair. Half wet, half dry ringlets framed his shrunken pale face-

_You’re staring, Eric._  
Cartman blinked and noticed Kyle glaring at him with his fists on his bony hips. “Am I that revolting to you, sir?” Cartman matched his glare and gave his shoulders a shrug.

“All Jews are revolting to me Kahl,” he watched the Jew cringe at the nickname and it pleased him.

“If we’re going to be-” he swallowed as if trying to find the right words. “spending more time together, can you at least stop using that name? My name is not Kahl.” Just the fact alone that Kyle dared to ask this made Cartman smirk in delight; the Jew had balls.

“I don’t remember that being in our agreement when we shook on it Kahl. You teach me to dance and in turn I will keep your family safe. Nowhere in that agreement is there a “No nickname” clause,” the pout that Kyle gave him in response made his stomach rumble in laughter.

“Can we just start this so we can finish? I do have a long day tomorrow in case you forgot.” For a moment Cartman glared at him for his cheeky mouth. He licked his teeth and sighed. _This was going to be a long night._

“Yeah, the less time I spend with you the better.” Cartman rolled his eyes and started towards the record player in the corner of the room.

“What are you doing?” Kyle asked in a hasty manner that made Cartman whip around in irritation.

“Music Kahl, don’t people dance to music?” Kyle huffed and crossed his arms, an action that really rubbed Cartman the wrong way.

“Yeah, professional dancers, not beginners. Before you can dance to music, first you have to learn to count.”

“I know how to count, Kahl.”

“Oh so you know how to count in time? In step? And you can do this to music? Then by all means _Commandant_ show me,” Kyle said extending his arm to the side and moving out of the way, a smirk on his face the whole time. Cartman’s face flushed, in anger or embarrassment, not even Cartman knew.

“You’re an annoying Jew rat you know that? I’m starting to regret giving you permission to speak freely,” Kyle smiled brightly in victory, but Cartman gave him a look to say _“this isn’t over”._ “Okay Kahl, how do we start then?” Kyle looked around the room and scratched the back of his head.

“Is there a bigger room we can use? This dance requires a lot of space.” Cartman shook his head.

“This is the biggest room.” 

Kyle nodded in understanding. “Then we’ll have to make due, first we need to move everything to the sides of the room so we have more space.” Cartman rose an eyebrow.

“You’re seriously?” Kyle walked to one end of the couch and pointed to the other end.

“I’m seriously, sir. Now grab the other end and help me move it.” Taking orders from a Jew? This was so wrong in Cartman’s eyes, but what else could he do. He had to learn to dance for this meeting. So, if it meant moving some furniture out of the way then so be it. Cartman helped Kyle move the couch to the side of the room, and then several other pieces of furniture.

“Not ideal, but much better,” Kyle said standing in the center of a much spacier living room. Cartman let out a ragged breath as he wiped sweat from his forehead; he wasn’t cut out for labor, that was a Jews job.

“Great, now what?”

“Now we work on your starting pose and posture. Now, watch closely,” and Kyle demonstrated. “Your feet must be together, your back must be straight, and your arms like so,” his arms were extended as his sides, but turned inward at his elbow and his left hand was flat, his right was cupped. Kyle stayed in that position for a few moments while Cartman examined him and his position. “Now, you do it,” Kyle said as he relaxed his body. Cartman pouted his lips in uncertainty but then nodded and got into the same position as Kyle, well he tried anyway. “Sir, you look like you’re trying to give a bear a hug.” It was clear he was trying his hardest to not laugh at the Commandant; the main reason he didn’t want Craig to see this first lesson.

“Ay! I’m doing it the way you showed me asshole!” Cartman tried his best to be intimidating but fell so short that it was laughable to Kyle.

“If you were doing it the way I showed you sir I wouldn’t have said you were doing it wrong now would I have?”

Cartman smirked. “You didn’t say I was doing it wrong Kahl, you just said it looked like I was trying to hug a bear.” Kyle gave an exasperated sigh and rubbed his temple and Cartman could swear he heard the Jew mumble “fatass”. But before Cartman could reprimand him, Kyle had walked behind the Commandant and pressed his hand to the small of his back. “The fuck are you doing Kahl?!” Cartman snapped as he jumped away from the contact. Instead of seeing the Jew frightened from his outburst at the physical contact, he instead saw fire behind those emerald hues of his.

“I understand that I must be a huge eyesore for you to be in the same room as me, and I’m sure that you’re disgusted even more that the likes of a Jew rat has to touch you. Hell the thought of touching a monster like you makes _my_ skin crawl. But goddammit sir we made an agreement and we both have to put on our big boy briefs and deal with this situation in its entirety, even if that means touching each other.”

Cartman was at a loss for words from Kyle’s outburst. Everything Kyle had the nerve to say demanded that he be reprimanded by Nazi law. The word “monster” in itself was a personal stab to the heart and for a brief moment Cartman’s amber eyes showed pain as he took in the fiery Jew before him.

_Just demand that he not use that word._  
Cartman shook his head. No. He had agreed that Kyle could say anything he wanted and he wasn’t about to let him know he despised that word. So instead he glared and stood straight. “Boxers.” Kyle blinked.

“What?”

“I wear boxers Kahl. No Commandant in charge would be caught dead wearing tighty whiteys.” Kyle actually blushed at this and his irritation subsided.

“Thank you for that lovely mental image,” he said, palming at his eyes. Cartman smiled.

“Anytime. Now let’s get back to it. What am I doing wrong?” Cartman asked getting back into the same stance he was in a few moments ago.

“Where do I start?” Kyle began when he came behind Cartman a second time. “For starters your back isn’t straight enough,” Kyle placed his hand yet again on the small of Cartman’s back and the other he placed on the front side of his clavicle and pressed against the other so Cartman’s spine naturally straightened. “You walk around the camp with phenomenal posture, I don’t see why you can’t do that getting into a dance position,” Cartman blushed and it wasn’t from embarrassment, but because Kyle had complimented him. He highly doubted that Kyle noticed and he wasn’t about to point it out, and he especially wasn’t going to point out that he took pride in the compliment; thank god his back was to Kyle. “Now, your lines are too round, bring your arms back more,” Kyle grabbed his biceps and for a moment he had hesitated, long enough for Cartman to notice. “Big boy boxers Kahl,” Cartman reminded him of his own speech about not hesitating when it came to touching in this situation.

“Oh yeah, sorry.” Returning his focus back to Cartman’s posture, he pulled his biceps back slightly to align with his sides. “Now your arms straight,” he said gliding his hands down Cartman’s biceps and adjusting them accordingly; an action that made Cartman shiver involuntarily and if Kyle noticed he didn’t comment on it and continued on. “Your left hand will hold your partner's hand, your right will be wrapped under your partner's left arm and will rest on their back. Your right arm will very in height depending on how tall your partner is. And your left will be straight in line to match your partner.” Kyle stepped around in front of Cartman to examine his posture. “Much better. This is your starting stance when going into the Viennese Waltz, you should practice it as much as possible until you have it down. It’s crucial that your back is straight and your lines flawless.” Cartman nodded in understanding.

“Sir, you can breathe you know, you’ve been holding your breath the entire time I’ve adjusted you,” had he really? He hadn’t noticed at all, but did let out a breath and was surprised by how long it took to exhale. He really had been holding it in. “It’s natural sir, some people naturally hold their breath when their back is straight and in an unnatural setting.”

“Can I put my arms down now?” Cartman asked as politely as he could considering it was really painful holding his arms up this long and Kyle must have known because he laughed.

“Yes, sir, shake them out. I assure you for a while they will feel like jelly until you build up some upper arm strength.” Cartman lowered his arms and shook them out as Kyle said and even stretched them across his chest.

“Ay! I’ll have you know I have upper arm strength! I’m not fat I’m big boned and I’ll have you remember that Jew,” Kyle looked away and mouthed something under his breath that Cartman didn’t hear. “What was that Jew?”

“Nothing sir, now keep stretching your arms and then we’ll check your posture again,” Cartman groaned in displeasure but listened to Kyle and stretched out his arms for a few more minutes until Kyle gave him the word to get into the starting position. “Better this time. Your back is perfect but you have to watch your shoulders and the lines in your arms. It’s a normal reaction for the shoulders to come forward when you extend the arms. Work on keeping the shoulders back,” and he adjusted the Commandant so. “Remember you will adjust according to your partner's height.” Kyle took a step back and was about to give Cartman more direction but the Commandant spoke first.  
“Aren’t you going to show me?” Cartman didn’t miss the blush that crept up on the Jew’s pale cheeks.

“What?!” Cartman actually had to hold back a chuckle. It wasn’t often the Jew was flustered, he was normally a spit fire.

“I need to familiarize myself with a partner, yes? Seeing as how you’re my teacher for the time being Kaahl, that would technically make you my temporary partner,” god damnit why was he saying this? He didn’t want to touch the Jew just as much as he didn’t want to touch Cartman. It’s like Cartman was asking for misery.

Kyle and Cartman remained silent as they stared uncomfortably at each other, as if terrified of the elephant in the room. Kyle looked like he was having some internal struggle, a struggle that Cartman knew all too well. “You’re right,” Kyle inhaled deeply, as if meditating on what was to come. “Since you will most likely be dancing with a woman at this party, you will lead so your right hand will come around my back and rest on it. Your left hand, will be holding my right,” Kyle rolled his shoulders, and then shook his arms and was readying them into the perfect stance, his right hand slipping into Cartman’s-

They both gasped and separated immediately. Cartman was still not used to this discovery about Kyle.  
 _Jews aren’t supposed to be warm._

//

_Nazis aren’t supposed to be warm._  
When Kyle shook the Commandant’s hand the day before he noticed it then too and at that time it took so much for Kyle to not pull away because he didn’t want Cartman to think he was pulling out of the deal. But today, noticing a second time that Cartman had warmth to him, it shocked him as if it was a charge of static electricity. As naïve as it sounded, Kyle considered Cartman a cold blooded monster, he was shocked to find that he actually had some warmth to him.

Kyle also noticed that Cartman too, had pulled away. The only reason that Kyle could come up with himself was again that Cartman was repulsed by him. So, Kyle readied to defend himself, but the Commandant spoke first. “I thought we already established this you Jew rat! I don’t want to touch a Jew like you, and you don’t want to touch a _monster_ like me, right?” The tremor in Cartman’s voice when he said the word ‘monster’ did not escape Kyle’s notice. This was the third time he had noticed in fact. That word really did bother him, but Kyle couldn’t understand why. When Kyle didn’t answer Cartman did. “Of course I’m right. I’m not going to give up on this dance just because you, Jew rat, are too disgusted by the likes of me to hold my hand. Now I’m going to learn this dance Kahl so give me your goddamn hand and check my posture,” and with that Cartman grabbed Kyle’s hand and yanked him forward. Luckily years of dancing made Kyle a natural on his feet so he was able to catch himself before he collided face first into the Commandant; something he did not want to do. _Damnit, why can’t I be this graceful when he is shoving my face in the dirt every day?_ “Are you going to check my posture or not Jew?” Cartman sneered through his teeth looking straight ahead, as if he would rather look anywhere but Kyle; which suited him just fine. Kyle took in a deep breath to calm his racing thoughts and finally examined Cartman’s posture.

“Your right hand,” Kyle gently wrapped his fingers around Cartman’s wrist. “Needs to come up higher,” he said while he slid his hand up his side higher to where it was just under his armpit. “That way my arm can lay comfortably on yours, and my hand rests…” Kyle laid his arm upon Cartman’s, making sure they aligned just right, and his hand gripped the top of his bicep. “…here,” Kyle’s slender hand gently squeezed his bicep, reaffirming what he discovered only a few minutes ago, that there was muscle there. With Cartman’s build he assumed he was all fat, yes there was still chub on his arms, but there was a bit of firm muscle in his bicep. That, he did not expect at all and he didn’t expect to be staring at his upper arm as long as he did.

“Jew…” Cartman warned snapping him out of his daze. “How is the rest of my posture?”

“Right,” Kyle said with a bit of hesitation but assessed Cartman’s stance. “Shoulders back more, but much much better sir,” Cartman corrected himself as Kyle instructed and he looked perfect. _No, he wasn’t perfect, he was a Nazi._ Even with perfect posture he wasn’t perfect. Then why did he-? Kyle’s heart began to pound in his chest, so fast that he could feel it in his ears; he was panicking.

“We’re done for today, I should get back to the barracks.” Kyle went to pull away but Cartman gripped his hand tighter.

“What?! You’re kidding right Jew? We didn’t do shit. All you did was show me how to stand! And who are you to be making demands?! You’re not leaving until you show me some steps!” Cartman demanded angrily, his face flushing.

“I’ve shown you enough for one lesson. You can’t take a step without perfecting your posture. Besides I’ve lost a lot of strength in my arms since I’ve been here, it really hurts to hold them up. We’re done for today. Let me go, sir.” That wasn’t a complete lie, it did hurt to hold his arms up just the few times tonight that he did so; he had lost so much muscle mass while in the camp. But Kyle wasn’t about to reveal the real reason why he wanted out immediately.

“Kahl…” it was a warning, a warning that if he left now he would be punished later. But Kyle didn’t care, he needed to get away, to breathe, to think clearly because the thoughts that were going through his mind made absolutely no sense and that terrified him. Kyle tried to yank his hand away from Cartman.

“Let me go fatass!” that made the Commandant release him immediately and Kyle ran not daring to look back, if he did he would have seen a pained look on Cartman’s face.

They hadn’t even taken a single step in their lessons and they were already tripping over their feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize for the delay with this chapter. I've had a lot of "picking up" to do after Hurricane Harvey hit and have been very stressed out. I hope to be back to regular updates.   
> Hope you guys enjoyed this one. Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and left kudos! They keep me writing! You guys are awesome!


	11. Chapter 11

_//"Dancing through life, swaying and sweeping, and always keeping cool,”//_

“Is he still staring?” Kyle asked Tweek as he shoved his shovel in the patch of dirt. Tweek did the same and chanced a side glance at the Commandant that watched them from afar; or as they both knew he was actually watching Kyle.

“Ye-yeah and he looks pretty p-pissed off,” that made Kyle smirk in delight. _Good, let him have his fit._ Kyle knew the Commandant was pissed at him for ending their lesson early but he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty. _Let the Nazi be butt hurt for all I care, they deserve misery for what they are doing to us._ Kyle internally groaned and cursed himself for having these thoughts knowing he was raised better than that. He was raised to be humble and understanding, to never judge a person from their actions, and to never hate. Though it seemed however that the Nazis were karma’s flaw in the system.

“You su-sure ignoring him is the b-best idea?” Tweek asked with hesitation and uncertainty. Kyle smirked and wiped sweat from his brow; even though the weather was cooling down significantly they were still sweating from their heavy workloads every day.

“Aren’t we technically supposed to ignore them? Keep our heads down and stay out of the way? I mean it's not like he has actually approached me to talk. Not that I’d talk to him anyway,” the two boys shared a laugh but didn’t dare stop working; they never stopped working when they were assigned to their daily duties.

Just as the boys laughter was dwindling, Tweek was shoved forward face first in the dirt. “Tweek!” Kyle gasped in worry over his friend. “What’s your problem fatass?” Kyle snapped dropping his shovel and started to drop down to help his friend up but before he even moved towards Tweek, he was grabbed with force by the wrist and Cartman, standing behind Kyle, twisted his arm behind him. Kyle winced in pain.

“Remember your place Jew, we’re outside now. You don’t get to say what you want out here,” Cartman hissed with malice against Kyle’s ear, twisting Kyle’s arm tighter. He almost cried out but instead inhaled deeply and mentally counted to ten to keep himself in check; he didn’t need a repeat of what happened last time he blew up at the Commandant in the yard.

“You’re problem is with me sir, leave Tweek out of it,” Kyle whispered with a hiss through his own pain. For a moment the Commandant said nothing, just kept his tight grip on Kyle keeping him against his body. To Kyle, _this_ felt so wrong from how he felt last night.

_Kyle was practically running towards the front door of the Villa to get away from the dancing lesson, but more so to get away from the Commandant. Just as he reached for the knob a voice called out behind him. “Kyle! Kyle wait!” Kyle turned to see Clyde running towards him._

_“Whatever that fatass has to say I’m not listening. The lesson is over tonight,” Kyle snapped without fully meaning to, especially at Clyde who had been very kind to him earlier. Clyde caught up with him, took a moment to catch his breath, and then shook his head._

_“Oh he’s already retired to his room, probably sipping whiskey by now,” Clyde shrugged as if he really didn’t care what Cartman was doing and in that moment Kyle wondered just how loyal Clyde actually was to his Commander. “Kyle, I can’t let you leave like this.” Kyle gave a look of confusion._

_“But I just said the lesson is over,”_

_“Your clothes. You can’t return to the barracks in those.” Kyle looked down at himself where he noticed he was still wearing the black slacks and white shirt._

_“Oh, yes that would probably not be very smart.” Since their lessons were secret, it wouldn’t do good to return to the barracks dressed in nice clothes. The prisoners would talk,_ after _they ripped the new clean clothes from his body; many of the prisoners had gone insane over the months Kyle had been at the camp._

_“Your uniform was just put in the dryer, it’s still wet I’m afraid. If you don’t mind waiting I can-”_

_“No it’s fine, I’ll take them wet. I just want to get back and get some rest. It’s been a long day,” which wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the whole truth. Clyde looked at him with uncertainty._

_“Are you sure? It keeps getting colder every day, especially at night. You may get sick,” but Kyle shrugged as if it was no big deal._

_“I’ll be fine Clyde, I have a strong immune system. It took forever for me to get the chicken pox, I was the last one in class to get it.” Clyde shook his head with a smirk._

_“But that doesn’t make you immune Kyle, but if you’re sure then come with me for your clothes,” and Kyle did._

_After changing out of his dress clothes, and into his wet but clean uniform, he left the villa and made his way carefully and quiet back to the barracks. The guards had been informed ahead of time that Kyle would be coming and going, but Kyle highly doubted Cartman told them the real reason for his required presence in the villa and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to know what he told his soldiers. Without even giving the guards a glance Kyle walked passed them to enter the barracks and made it to his room number._

_Even in the dark Kyle found his family’s bunk with no trouble. His brother was sleeping soundly with his father and Kyle thanked god that they were able to sleep so soundly, and he felt incredibly blessed that it seemed like his little brother was able to sleep nightmare free. At least for now anyway._

_Kyle was happy to find Tweek sleeping in their bed, he was worried that Tweek would be too worried about him tonight with the lesson with the Commandant, even though he knew, at the time, that Craig would be with him; he’d tell him otherwise tomorrow. Any time Kyle saw Tweek sleeping he gave him that and went out of his way to avoid waking him, even if it meant sleeping on the floor._

_Kyle found the always vacant corner near his bunk and sat down, bending both knees against his chest and placing his elbows on them. He sighed into his hands as he processed the situation he just had with the Commandant, a situation that the Commander was oblivious to and Kyle wanted to keep it that way. Hell Kyle wished he could go on feeling oblivious, like nothing happened, that he felt nothing when he was in that starting position with Cartman; but he had. Not only had he felt incredible warmth from Cartman, but there was something else, something that he had never felt with any other dance partner he had ever been paired with. It was such a clliché, something that he only read about in books and fairy tale stories and never thought what he felt actually existed. When Kyle and Cartman came together in that starting position for the Viennese Waltz, Kyle felt a spark between them, a spark that felt like they were meant to dance together, that they fit into each other as easily as a puzzle piece. Just from that starting pose, Kyle sensed that dancing with Cartman was_ right.

 _Kyle groaned and palmed both his eyes in annoyance. But it wasn’t right, there was no way it could be. Cartman was a Nazi, a bloodthirsty sadistic monster who hated them all and wanted to make all of their lives a living hell. Why in the hell would dancing with_ him _feel right? Him of all people? Why would Kyle have felt that with the Commandant of a concentration camp during a war, but not with a_ normal _and_ sane _dance partner? It just didn’t make any sense and Kyle wasn’t about to try and sort it out. It had to be a fluke, plain and simple. Kyle hadn’t danced in a very long time, his body just missed it so much and was confused. That had to be it, it had to be._

_“K-Kyle?” Kyle looked up from his knees to see a very disheveled Tweek, who still looked like he was half asleep. Hell, Kyle wouldn’t doubt he may even be sleep walking; he’d seen Tweek do it before. Kyle was about to say something but Tweek groaned and sat down right next to Kyle. Tweek leaned against his side, laid his head on Kyle’s shoulder and wrapped their pinkies together. “It’s okay Kyle,” Tweek said nothing more and Kyle was sure that he had fallen right back asleep, but Kyle was still very touched that his friend cares about his well being so much. Kyle smiled and laid his head upon Tweek’s._

_“Thanks Tweek.” Kyle didn’t remember falling asleep but when he woke up again, Tweek and Kyle were still on the floor._

With how he was feeling right now being held by Cartman, he had to assume that, yes, what he felt last night was a fluke; a one time thing that he was sure to never happen again. “Just watch that mouth of yours Jew. Now, you and the freak get back to work.” With that, Cartman shoved Kyle down where he collided with Tweek in the dirt. Cartman turned to leave, but suddenly turned back. “Oh, and Kyle, I’ve decided on a change in our schedule, or should I say _your_ schedule,” Cartman looked around as if making sure no prisoners were listening in on them, though it seemed he didn’t care that Tweek heard him. Cartman probably assumed Kyle told him everything since they were friends, and he wasn’t wrong. “I’ve decided on the days that you aren’t with me, you’ll be with Craig. We will not have any joined lessons and you _will_ be working weekends,” Kyle’s right eye twitched and his face contorted in anger. Was he serious? Was he fucking serious?! He had to do his normal work days in the camp _and_ teach lessons every night?!

“When do expect me to sleep?” Kyle hissed through his teeth, but his anger only seemed to amuse the Commandant.

“Not my problem, Jew.”

“You’re trying to work me into an early grave aren’t you?” Cartman chuckled and winked at Kyle, an action that left a foul taste in his mouth.

“You found me out Jew,”

“You son of a-”

“Kyle don’t,” Tweek said calmly, grabbing Kyle by the wrist and pulling him back down. He hadn’t even noticed he had started to charge at the Nazi commander. Cartman smiled and turned to walk away.

“Craig will see you tonight Kahl,” Cartman waved over his shoulder as he walked away.

“Fucking fatass,” Kyle whispered under his breath but loud enough that Tweek heard it.

“Don’t w-worry Kyle, I’m trying t-to blow him up w-with my mind,” Kyle smiled and helped his friend finally to stand up.

“If only,”

//

“You’ll be happy to know that your boyfriend is very light on his feet,” Kyle told Tweek over dinner the following night; dinner consisting of only a slice of bread and water. Tweek’s face flushed, eyes widened and he looked around like a madman.

“Relax Tweek, no one else likes sitting with us remember.” Kyle’s father and brother were the only ones who ever sat with them because no one ever wanted to be around “the freak” of the barracks. That suited Kyle just fine since they could be free of eavesdroppers.

“Oh yeah,” Tweek said trying to take a couple deep breathes to ease his small panic attack. “Well, Craig isn’t exactly a novice when it comes to dancing. His father died when he was very young and his mother fell into depression shortly after so Craig pretty much had to raise his baby sister, Ruby, by himself. Every now and then their mother would come out of it and actually _be_ a mother, but for the most part Craig raised Ruby. Craig did everything for Ruby. Got her up in the mornings, got her ready for school and made sure she had lunch every day even if it meant he went without. Craig even learned how to braid so he could braid Ruby’s hair,” Kyle gave a look of understanding, or rather more of acceptance because he couldn’t say he understood. Kyle was lucky enough to grow up with both of his parents, and because his father was a lawyer they lived a comfortable life and never really seemed to struggle. He couldn’t imagine raising Ike on his own and he prayed that after the war, he wouldn’t have to.

“How did he learn to braid? I don’t see a serious guy like him checking a book out of the library about braiding.” Tweek laughed at his comment and then rubbed the back of his neck with a blush.

“I taught him. I used to braid strings, hoping it would help with my anxiety.” Kyle didn’t ask further on that subject because he got the feeling Tweek didn’t want to talk about it. “But, Craig did check books out about dancing. Nothing fancy, but enough to teach Ruby some dance moves for her school dances,” Kyle was really moved by that, learning small dances to teach his sister, it was really sweet. It was hard to believe that a boy who learned to dance for his sister, and loved Tweek unconditionally, was the same boy who was now a Nazi first officer. Kyle tried to believe in him like he knew Tweek did, but he couldn’t bring himself to trust him. Craig had already broken Tweek’s heart and Kyle didn’t want to see that happen again.

“Makes sense why he didn’t seem like a total novice. Teaching Craig is going to be a lot easier than teaching the fatass.” Just as the two boys smiled Kyle suddenly sneezed and everyone who heard him looked at him in terror and disgust. Most of the time when men got sick in the camp the hope for recovery was slim to nil. You either collapse dead from your illness, or you get sent away because you are no longer fit to work and those that got sent away never came back. “Sorry my shoes and clothes are spoken for,” Kyle bitterly told the men around him. Too often when one of the men died in the barracks several men would dog pile the corpse and wrestle for the deceased clothes and shoes; it really was a barbaric sight.  
The men rolled their eyes and went back to avoiding Kyle like they always had. 

“Kyle are y-you sure you’re o-okay? That is the t-third time you’ve sneezed today.” Kyle bit his lip, he didn’t realize he had even sneezed at all earlier in the day and was a little surprised Tweek was keeping track.

“I’m fine, Tweek, probably just inhaled too much dirt. We’ve been digging in the trenches a lot lately, my lungs are probably filled with dirt.” He tried to present Tweek with a smile of confidence but he knew his friend saw right through him. Truth was, Kyle prayed that he wasn’t getting sick, he didn’t want to be separated from his family by any means; being parted from his mother was just too much.

“Have my water son,” Gerald spoke up, pushing his cup towards Kyle. Kyle shook his head with a smile and pushed it back to his father.

“No papa I’m really fine. It’s just a reaction from the dirt, you need it more than I do,” and Kyle truly believed that. His father had been looking worse and worse every passing week, so much that Kyle was very scared for him, terrified that he would be taken away because he may no longer be able to work soon. But if the Commandant kept his word, he wouldn’t be sent away, he would be safe. Of course Kyle did not trust the word of a Nazi so until then, he would worry and try to keep his father as strong as he could. “Drink it papa, for me and Ike,” Kyle gripped his father’s forearm firmly and smiled in assurance to help prove that, in his father’s eyes, he was okay. If Gerald still wanted to argue further, he didn’t and finished his water.

Tweek leaned in close to Kyle so his father wouldn’t overhear and said, “If you h-have to sneeze tonight, make sure you d-do it in the fatass’ face.”

//

“Would you mind explaining Kahl, why you taught Craig more in _his_ first lesson than _mine_? You do remember that I am in charge and not him right?” was the very first thing Cartman said after Kyle had his shower and met him for his lesson; Kyle was only allowed a shower on the days he trained with Cartman and not Craig. _Didn’t want to disgust the Commandant but who cared about the first officer,_ is what it felt like to Kyle. But he couldn’t complain about that aspect, a hot shower was a nice luxury to help cope with this arrangement.

“As I explained the other night sir, I was very tired and weak, there was nothing more to it.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either, but there was no way in hell that Kyle was about to tell the Commandant, _“Oh yeah, it actually felt right being held by you, a Nazi, and that terrified me.”_ Repeating it again now in his head the way he did made him sound absolutely insane.

“Whatever Jew. Just don’t expect to do the same thing today. You’re teaching me until _I_ say we’re done you got that Jew?” Even though Kyle nodded, he was glaring at Cartman to show that he was not intimidated.

“Yes sir,”

“Good, now check my position so we can actually start taking steps, okay Kahl,” and before Kyle could answer, Cartman got into the started up stance for the waltz.

“That’s actually pretty perfect,” Kyle was actually genuinely impressed that it was pretty close to a perfect stance. “Shoulders back just a tiny bit more and it’s flawless.” Cartman adjusted so. “Wow, you’ve actually been practicing?” Cartman glared at him.

“As much as it kills me having to do something a Jew tells me, you did tell me to practice,” Kyle didn’t miss the rush of color on Cartman’s cheeks; that really embarrassed him to say. 

“Yeah but I didn’t think you’d actually listen to me.” Cartman rolled his eyes, gave an exasperated sigh, and lowered his stance.

“I’m taking this seriously, Jew and if that means doing something a Jew rat like you tells me, then I’ll do it. If I had to choose I’d rather be kicked in the balls.” Kyle bit his lip in a chuckle.

“I’d be happy to make that happen,” Kyle actually saw Cartman’s eye twitch and his hands balled into fists.

“Do it and see what happens.” For a moment Kyle really did consider it, Cartman deserved a kick to the balls and much more.

“As tempting as it is, I don’t exactly have all night so let’s get started,” and this time Kyle got into the starting stance. “The simplest way to learn the Viennese Waltz is to start with the natural box with natural turn. You will lead with your right foot, watch closely,” Kyle took a step with his right foot and moved forward. “1 2 3,” he turned. “2 2 3, turned again while moving. “3 2 3,” turned again and moved. “4 2 3,” and ended up in the same position he started in.

“Do it again,” Cartman ordered as soon as he finished. Kyle was about to blow up at him thinking he wasn’t paying attention, but when he looked at the Commandant he was staring at Kyle’s feet without blinking.

“Yes sir, remember lead with the right foot,” and he started again in the natural box step. “1 2 3, 2 2 3, 3 2 3, 4 2 3,” when Kyle returned to his starting position he noticed Cartman was still staring at his feet. _He really is paying attention._

“Okay, I think I got it.” Cartman stood straight with his shoulders back, arms in the right position and he took a step forward.

“Lead with the right sir, not the left,” Kyle corrected as soon as he took the step with the wrong foot.

“I did step with my right Kahl,” Cartman looked down as if to prove to Kyle that he was right, but then groaned when he saw that it was wrong. “Why do I have to lead with the right foot? It feels wrong, you must be wrong,” Cartman said, clearly flustered that he got the first step wrong.

“I’ve been dancing since I was 8, I don’t get it wrong. You must lead with the right foot forward because your partner will step back with their left foot sir. So unless you want to step on her feet and risk crushing them, you’ll learn to lead with your right, sir.” Cartman glared daggers at Kyle.

“Ay! Was that a fat joke Kahl?” the Commandant snapped and Kyle rolled his eyes. He actually did not mean it the way Cartman took it, but he supposed the insult was a better hit to his ego than the regular statement he meant.

“No sir, besides, I have better fat jokes in my arsenal than that. Now let's-” Kyle sneezed mid sentence and kept talking. “continue. Try again, this time leading with your right foot,” but Cartman didn’t move, in fact he didn’t say anything. When Kyle looked at Cartman to see if he had heard him, the Commandant was looking at him like he had two heads. Kyle just assumed he was repulsed by his sneeze, or terrified that he would catch something. “It’s just allergies sir, I’ve been inhaling a lot of dirt. Someone seems to think it’s funny shoving me face first in it.” this seemed to snap Cartman out of whatever daze he was in because he gave Kyle a wicked smile.

“You just don’t watch where you’re going Kahl, not my fault you’re clumsy.” Kyle rolled his eyes.

“I’ll try to be more careful. Now back to the lesson. I know it feels unnatural to lead with the right, but practice makes perfect. Try again sir, this time instead of trying the box, let’s just get down starting with the right foot. I’m going to count to three and after three step off on the count of one.” Kyle expected Cartman to argue further or give some smartass retort, or even be confused, but he didn’t. Cartman readied his stance and looked down at his feet. “Sir, keep your head up, if your head is down it will mess up your posture.” Kyle gently lifted Cartman’s chin with the sides of his fingers and smiled at the panicked look he gave him. “Seeing your feet won’t command them to move, you can do this. Now let’s try. Ready?” 

Cartman said nothing but nodded and Kyle wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to know what was going through his head in this moment, all he knew was he had a look of bewilderment. “Okay, here we go. One and Two and Three and One,” Kyle watched as Cartman’s left leg twitched as if he was about to move it, but quickly caught himself and sloppily extended his right. “Better sir, sloppy, but better.” 

For at least half an hour they worked solely on starting with the right foot until Cartman got it down. Once the had the first step down, for the most part, they moved on to the natural box; which Cartman was anything but. If Kyle told him to turn right, he went left, if he told him to turn left, he went right. After several hours they were both reaching a boiling point with each other and the lesson, mainly because the Commandant was very frustrated in himself for not getting it and taking it out on Kyle. “Just because you’re moving your feet doesn’t mean you let your posture fall.”

“God damnit Kahl it isn’t easy! I’m not Mr. Perfect Dancer of 8 Years!” Kyle licked his lips and rolled his neck in annoyance.

“I’ve been dancing since I was eight, not for 8 years fatass.”

“Well la di freaking da,”

“Just try again, sir.”

They went back and forth for another two hours until they reached a point where they were arguing instead of practicing and decided 2am was late enough and the Commandant dismissed Kyle.  
“And stop sneezing so much Jew!”

//

“Tweek, why can’t your boyfriend teach that fatass to dance? He at least knows what he is doing,” Kyle groaned into Tweek’s shoulder two evenings passed at “dinner”. Even though the other prisoners were avoiding Kyle like he had the black plague, his sneezing had developed to harsh deep coughing, Tweek still made sure no one was listening in on them.

“Because Craig only knows the basics, he doesn’t know how to actually waltz and I know he would never tell Cartman that he actually knows anything.” This got Kyle’s attention enough to look up from his resting place on Tweek’s shoulder.

“Tweek, did you guys know him before the war?” Kyle coughed and made sure to turn his head away from Tweek.

“Y-yes. We went to s-school together for years. I didn’t know it but Craig and Cartman entered the r-regime together. Cartman was a jackass then and a j-jackass now. Craig hated him and would never confess to him that he knows how to dance, he would have bullied Craig for it. I can say I fully believe Craig would not help Cartman despite being his first officer. Cartman hated me, but he tolerated Craig and maybe in some twisted reality saw Craig as his friend. But Craig is a very closed off person, he won’t tell his life story to just anyone.”

“Yeah, I got that from our lessons. He barely talks and it’s like pulling teeth for him to answer me. I think I made him too mad last night because he flipped me off.” That made Tweek chuckle.

“Yeah he does that, don’t take it personally. That’s how he shows emotion believe it or not. I think I’m the only one who has ever seen him smile.” Kyle didn’t miss the look of pride on Tweek’s face when he said this. Kyle smiled and returned his head to Tweek’s shoulder with a groan.

“Wake me when they dismiss us.” Kyle closed his eyes, hoping he could rest for a few minutes before he had to meet with the Commandant.

Across the table Gerald was watching his son in worry. He knew Kyle was getting sicker each day, mainly because he had no room for rest. They worked him all day in the camp and then well into the morning hours with the Commandant and his first Lieutenant. From across the table he could see the small beads of sweat forming on the back of Kyle’s neck, signs of a fever. Tweek met Gerald’s concerned look with his own, they were both worried about him.

//

“You look like shit,” was the first thing Cartman said when they met that night after Kyle’s shower; which took twice as long because it was more soothing than normal due to his sickened state.

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself fatass.” Kyle meant it as an insult but was too weak to determine if it actually came off as an insult. Kyle got a good look at himself in the mirror earlier and knew he looked awful. He was paler than what was normal for him, he was hot, sweaty and clammy, and his eyes had bags and looked like they would close any minute. But what could Kyle do? He had a lesson with the Commandant, he would have to rest later. “Let’s just get started. You were doing satisfactory the other night with the natural box, now lets try it with pointing your toes.”

“What do you mean pointed toes? This isn’t ballet.” Kyle inhaled a breath; he really wasn’t in the mood tonight for Cartman’s attitude.

“No it’s not, but most dancing requires pointed toes and feet. You don’t want to stomp around flat footed like a Tyrannosaur. The waltz is supposed to be,” Kyle stopped because he was having a coughing fit, he made sure to turn away so he wouldn’t cough all over the Commandant; he knew he would pay for it if he did. After his fit he turned back to continue addressing Cartman, but he was gone. “Sir?” a moment later Cartman came back from the kitchen holding a glass of water with ice.

“Here,” he said offering it to Kyle without looking at him. For a moment Kyle stared at it dumbstruck, as if contemplating that the water was an hallucination. “They are ice cubes Kahl, not poison. Drink it, Jew.”

“Thank you sir,” and Kyle took the water and chugged it; fresh ice cold water was even more heavenly than a hot shower. “Thank you,” Kyle repeated after he was finished.

“You said that, once is enough,” he took the glass from Kyle and set it aside. “Let’s continue.” Kyle went about showing Cartman how to move in the natural box with pointed feet.

“The waltz is supposed to be fluid, from head to toe, not choppy and bulky,” Kyle stated making sure Cartman understood the importance of pointed feet.

Over the next hour Cartman practiced moving around the room in the box set with pointed toes, which was really hard for him; he was in no way light on his feet. “Don’t let your shoulders drop,” Kyle called out while Cartman was turning. He had a bad habit of focusing on his feet so much that his perfect posture dropped.

A half hour later it was getting harder for Kyle to breathe, so much that he had to breathe through his mouth. He was sweating more and it was harder to concentrate, but he had to keep going. “Better, try again. One and two and three and,” but Kyle swayed on the spot but caught himself, blinking his world back into focus.

“Kahl?”

“I’m fine, again. One and two-” but Kyle couldn’t keep going, Kyle’s vision blurred, he swayed again, this time unable to right himself and tumbled forward.

“Kyle!” hearing his name shouted properly was the last thing he heard before he blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I know absolutely nothing about how to dance, let alone how to waltz. So I did what any logical vulcan would do, I used the youtube xD I even tried the natural box set and let me tell you, it actually really is weird and unnatural to lead with your right foot. >. <  
> But anyway I hope you guys enjoyed! I love and appreciate each and every one of you for the kudos and comments. It's your comments that keep me writing. Let me know what you think ♡♡  
> If you guys want to follow me on tumblr my name on there is "akashakushrenada"


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm dedicating this chapter to an amazing friend I have made through this fandom, littlemissstark315, she is an amazing person and her stories are awesome! Her "Monster in the Window" story is fabulous and she is working on a sequel!! Hope you like this one hun! ♡♡

_//“In the end everything collides, my childhood spat back out the monster that you see,”//_

There were times when he was so hot that he was sure he would spontaneously combust, and there were times when he was so cold that he was certain he would freeze to death. He was in and out of consciousness, but never enough to realize his surroundings; the constant coughing and shakes were just too much to handle when conscious. Kyle felt so incredibly weak and wished he could sleep for days just to make the pain go away; if it wasn’t for the nightmares. Every time Kyle slipped back into unconsciousness, the monsters of the abyss plagued him. He did all he could to keep them at bay, to wake up, but it was so hard to keep his eyes open. There were even times he didn’t know reality from his dreams, many times he thought he was hallucinating when he was awake; if he ever was awake. Somewhere in the back of the abyss he could hear something, something familiar, something-beautiful. Kyle concentrated on the sound, fighting the shadows of his nightmares until he got closer to it and he could make it out. Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata? How was he hearing this? Was this in his dreams? Was he awake? Kyle decided it was too much effort to try and figure out so he just gave in, surrendered to the beautiful sonata that he had danced to so many times before. And when Kyle gave in to this gentle melody, the monsters seemed to retreat to the shadows and in its place was a dim but soft light that shaped itself into a green lush meadow where Kyle could finally relax.

//

“How is he Dr. Wyatt?” the Commandant asked with bitterness instead of the concern that he actually felt for the Jew. After listening to his heart and lungs, Dr. Wyatt removed the ear tips of his stethoscope, placed it back in his bag and turned to his Commander.

“Early stages of pneumonia, had he gone a few more days forcing himself, and without treatment, he may have died.” That was a sting to Cartman’s heart that he did not expect, a sting that angered him. “I can give him doses of antibiotics, and with a few days of bed rest he’ll be perfectly fine. However, I would need your permission to do that Commander.” Dr. Wyatt gave Cartman a challenging look, a look that he didn’t appreciate. A look that told Cartman even if he said no, he would still fix Kyle anyway.

“Just get him healthy,” Cartman ordered bitterly.

“You don’t wish for the Jew to die? I could rush the process if you’d like.” The smirk on Dr. Wyatt’s face caused Cartman to bite his lip in anger. Just what was the doctor playing at? Was he testing him to see just why this Jew was so special to him? That him, the Commandant of a concentration camp, actually wanted a Jew to live? The doctor was too noisy for his own good, luckily he was under strict orders to never repeat what goes on in this Villa.

“Do your job Doctor, get him better. The Jew and I made an arrangement that I won’t let him back out of.” Almost as if he was satisfied with Cartman’s answer, he smiled and started going through his medical bag.

“I’ll give him a starting dose of antibiotics now and I’ll come back in a few hours to administer another dose. For now, I’ll also give him a light sedative to help him sleep. He’s in a lot of pain right now and the coughing will keep him awake, but he needs to sleep.” Cartman nodded in understanding and watched as the Doctor loaded two syringes and injected them into the sick Jew; seeing Kyle being stuck with the needles actually made Cartman feel so uncomfortable that he had to look away. After he gave Kyle the shots, he loaded his medical bag back up and closed it. “He is running a high fever that he needs to break, the antibiotics will help, but depending on his strength I don’t know how long until he breaks it; and it may come back. Find him a blanket and wrap him in it so he can sweat it out, at the same time keep a cool cloth on his head.” Cartman looked completely offended by the Doctor's orders.

“You take care of him! It’s your job! You’re the Doctor here!” Cartman yelled all at once, a little panicked at the thought of having to take care of Kyle, a Jew. He wasn’t supposed to take care of Jews, he was supposed to cause them misery!

“That’s right sir I’m a _doctor, not_ a nurse. I received a call just before you sent for me that I am needed for an emergency at a nearby location, so I will need to leave the camp for a short time. _If_ I am not back in twelve hours, _you_ will need to administer his next round of antibiotics.” Cartman’s face flushed, in embarrassment or anger he wasn’t sure which.

“You’re seriously?! I’m not a nurse or a doctor! You’re post is at this Villa, Dr. Wyatt, you can’t just leave!” But the Doctor was unpacking a few syringes, needles and two vials of medicine.

“If I am called away by an emergency I must, and will leave sir,” Dr. Wyatt said sternly, so sternly as to let Cartman know the argument was over; he was leaving. Cartman fumed, breathing through his nose but tried to contain his temper; the Doctor smiled, knowing he won the battle. “I do hope you don’t have a phobia of needles.” Cartman huffed.

“No. Now how much of the dose do I give him if you’re not back?” Cartman asked seeming highly annoyed, which he really was. The Doctor showed him the amount he would need to inject and then showed him where to stick Kyle. The Doctor then finished packing his things and stood, ready to leave.

“Take care of him Commandant Cartman.” Cartman didn’t see the devious smile the Doctor gave him, even still Cartman rolled his eyes.

“Suck my balls,” and the Doctor left. When he was alone with an unconscious Kyle he let out a heavy sigh, ruffled his brown locks and plopped down in a nearby chair. “Why me?” Cartman rubbed at his temples with his fingers, feeling a headache coming on. “Clyde! Bring me a cup of coffee!” he shouted, knowing Clyde was around somewhere within yelling distance. While he was waiting on his coffee, Cartman looked everywhere but the sleeping Jew lying on his couch.

After a while, Clyde came into the living room carrying a hot cup of coffee for the Commandant. He placed it down on the table beside Cartman’s chair and was about to leave until he noticed Kyle on the couch. “What happened to Kyle?” Clyde asked in genuine concern. Cartman picked up his cup and rolled his eyes.

“The Jew allowed himself to get sick, probably just wants out of the dancing lessons,” Cartman said with a shrug as if the whole ordeal was one huge inconvenience; which it was.

“Poor Kyle, I warned him.” This got Cartman’s attention.

“The hell are you talking about Clyde?” Without looking at his Commander, and still at Kyle, he answered him.

“The other night when Kyle ran out on your first lesson, I caught him just before he could run out the door. I told him he needed to change out of the clothes he was in but his uniform was still wet, it hadn’t been dried yet. He left here in a wet uniform.” Cartman rolled his eyes, his foul mood worsening.

“So he’d rather get sick and risk dying than be a part of these lessons with me?” The question was rhetorical and he hadn’t meant to speak it aloud, but Clyde still answered him.

“Wouldn’t anyone?”

“Get the fuck out, Clyde.” He hadn’t yelled, but the authority and bitterness was there. Clyde nodded with a smile on his face and gladly left the living room.

The Commandant picked his porcelain coffee mug up and sipped it, still refusing to look anywhere but Kyle. This was just an unfortunate set back, that’s all it was, and this setback was Kyle’s fault. If Kyle hadn’t run out on his first lesson then his clothes would be dry and he wouldn’t be here lying on his couch sick as he was.

_Then why are you blaming yourself?_  
Blaming himself? Why in the hell would Cartman blame himself? He didn’t do anything wrong! Kyle was the one who stormed off like he had sand in his britches! He brought this upon himself. Cartman took another sip of his coffee to try and calm the raging thoughts in his head; he didn’t want his headache to turn into a migraine. “I guess I could have demanded that he stay.” He could have, he should have used his status of power to make Kyle stay the other night, and neither of them would be in this predicament.

_But that’s not why you’re blaming yourself, is it Eric?_  
Cartman slammed his mug down on the side table, the contents splashed his hand but he was too riled up to notice. _I’m not blaming myself god damnit! And even if I was, that’s what happened, I should have made Kyle continue the lesson!_ There was nothing more, nor nothing less to it. He should have demanded, he was the flipping Commandant after all!

_Eric, why do you even try to lie to yourself? You’re not very good at it. If you weren’t like this, a monster, then he would have wanted to stay with you._  
“Shut up, shut up, shut up! I’m not a monster!” Cartman yelled aloud, standing from his chair and storming from the room; his coffee forgotten and his headache worsening.

//

He hadn’t slept, not a single wink. He spent most of the early hours of the morning lying in bed unable to move with a migraine. Luckily for him his migraine finally slacked off sometime around 4am and he found that his body was demanding water. Cartman left the comfortable confines of his room to make his way to the kitchen for an ice cold glass of water. On his way to the kitchen he noticed a lump lying on his couch and he squinted his eyes in the darkness; Clyde must have turned the light off before he went to bed for the night. “Oh, the Jew,” Cartman said under his breath; his migraine may have caused him to be a bit forgetful. The more Cartman stared at the Jew in the darkness, the more he noticed movement.

With a curious look on his face, Cartman turned on one of the tall lamps and half of the room lit up. Immediately he noticed that Kyle was shaking horribly in his sleep as if he had been outside in a snowstorm. Cartman walked up to his side and gently placed the back of his hand against Kyle’s forehead. “Shit,” Cartman cursed under his breath pulling his hand away quickly. Kyle was burning up with a fever, most likely the same fever the doctor said he had earlier; he must never have broken it. Seems like his migraine also made Cartman neglectful towards Kyle’s health.

Remembering what the Doctor instructed him to do, Cartman went in search of a blanket. He looked in every closet, even stepping into Clyde and Craig’s rooms but neither of them had an extra blanket; lucky for him they were heavy sleepers.  
“Damnit,” Cartman grunted, knowing what he had to do, that he had no choice. The only other extra blanket was a quilt, a quilt that his grandmother made for him when he was a child, a quilt that was currently folded neatly and stowed away on the top shelf of his closet. Even though he hadn’t used it in years, he still made sure to bring it whenever his assignments took him; it was a keepsake, after all.

Cartman reached up into his closet, took down the quilt, and then shook it out several times to shake away any dust that coated it. Even though his grandmother made it for him when he was a child, the quilt could still fit the queen sized bed that Cartman had at the time; his mother always made sure he was comfortable. After it was dust free, he draped it over his arm to look at it, to really look at it; something he hadn’t done in years. The border was black, and around the inside border were splashes of dark colors like reds, oranges, and yellows that gave it the illusion of a sunset. In the middle of the sunset was a grey cat, nestled in a heap of Iris blossoms with fireflies all around it.

For a single moment Cartman traced the purple outline of an iris blossom with a soft smile. But before the feeling of nostalgia could fully consume him, he stopped and tucked the quilt under his arm, grabbed one of his pillows from his bed and then left his room to return to Kyle. When he returned to Kyle he was still shaking and Cartman wondered just how long he was down here shivering. _Well he does deserve it._

_Eric...stop._  
Cartman rolled his eyes and finally covered Kyle with his quilt, making sure to tuck in the sides so he was tightly, but comfortably, wrapped in the quilt and lifted his head carefully to place the pillow under it. After a few moments Kyle’s heavy shaking subsided to light shivering. Now he needed a cool cloth. He made his way to the kitchen where he grabbed a wash cloth from a drawer, ran it under the tap with cool water, wrung it out and returned to Kyle. He sat himself down on the free spot of the couch at Kyle’s side, Kyle was so skinny he barely took up any space on the couch. He leaned over to push his red locks back from his forehead to lay the cool cloth gently over his pale, sweating forehead. Knowing Kyle would be okay for the time being, Cartman went back to his sitting chair and picked up the book on his stand that he had been reading for the past few nights.

He had no idea that he had fallen asleep in his chair, or even at what time, but he woke up to talking, or rather incoherent mumbling. Cartman sat up from his laid back position, his book falling from his chest to the floor, and looked at the source of the noise. Kyle. He was twitching in his sleep, mumbling words Cartman couldn’t hear and even if he did he was sure he could not understand them. Right before his eyes he witnessed Kyle’s light twitching turn to thrashing and his mumbling turned into actual words. Every few words belonged to someone in his family. “Ike”, “Mama”, “Papa” and he even heard Tweek’s name in his mumbling. Cartman instantly knew what Kyle was going through, he knew the signs, for he had went through the same years ago. Nightmares.

Why was Kyle having nightmares? What were they about? What did he have to fear? From the first day he met Kyle, the Jew had made it seem like he was fearless; it was one of the reasons he liked Kyle.

_So you do like him?_  
Cartman glared and rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that he _liked_ Kyle, he could just tolerate him more than any other Jew. He could admit that, just maybe not to Kyle, or anyone for that matter. He could also admit that seeing Kyle struggling with nightmares, looking so weak and helpless, pained the Commandant. It wasn’t Kyle, not the fiery Jew he knew and he wanted to help him. The most logical thing would be to wake Kyle, but not only did he know that he was sedated and knew he would not fully wake, but also knew if woken from a nightmare he could become violent; he had been a few times. “Maybe…”

Cartman stood from his chair and walked over to a door that connected to the living room and entered it, leaving the door wide open. Once in the room he turned on a standing lamp and under the light of the lamp was a grand piano; this was his music room, a room that was off limits to everyone; he would not even allow Clyde to clean it. Cartman sat down at the piano and lightly traced his fingers over a few keys. It has been a long time since he played, but he could still remember every note, he didn’t even need sheet music. He took a deep breath, hovered his fingers over the keys and then started to play. A smile curled from his lips when he realized not only did he remember every note, but every key and played the piece flawlessly; the piece he played was one of his favorites, Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.

While he continued to play, his gaze drifted out into the living room until he found Kyle, still thrashing and mumbling in his sleep. “Listen and find it, Jew,” Cartman said softly while still playing the sonata. It took so much control for Cartman to not return to another time, to resist returning to the past where someone else would play this sonata to chase away his nightmares. He couldn’t go back there. He had to repress it and concentrate on playing, in hopes of chasing away _Kyle’s_ nightmares.

After a minute or so Kyle’s body stopped thrashing, his mouth ceased its ramblings and his face actually seemed to relax. The more he played, the more he saw Kyle’s body submit to relaxation and a better slumber, he could have sworn he even saw the Jew smile. Cartman continued to play for a while longer, he didn’t keep track of time, but it felt wonderful to play again; despite it helping Kyle calm down. After a half hour, maybe a full hour, Cartman was starting to fall asleep at the keys and decided he should try again to sleep.

He left the music room, making sure to close the door behind him. He re-wet the cloth on Kyle’s head and then made his way back to his room to get some sleep. _God this day has been hell._ He thought changing into his pajamas, having not even realized earlier he never changed.

_That was kind of you, Eric._  
With a mumble and a groan, he laid his head on a pillow, pulled the covers up to his neck and was out instantaneously.

//

“You didn’t put enough cream in my coffee, Clyde, it’s too bitter,” Cartman snapped, turning his lip up at his cup. Clyde walked out from the kitchen carrying the creamer and poured more into Cartman’s mug.

“Sorry sir.” Cartman sneered and waved him off.

“Is Dr. Wyatt back yet?” Clyde shook his head. 

“No, he is still gone and he has sent no word of when he will be back.” Clyde went back to the kitchen to continue cooking the Commandant’s breakfast. From his spot at the dining room table Cartman looked at the clock on the wall, it was almost 10am and Kyle was do for his second round of antibiotics.

“God damnit. I should fire that doctor. Clyde! How much longer on my breakfast?”

“Technically sir, this is now brunch.”

“Shut your smart ass mouth, Clyde, and answer my damn question.”

“A bit, sir.” Cartman sighed and got up from the table. With Dr. Wyatt still gone he knew he’d have to give Kyle his next shot and he really wanted to get it out of the way. He grabbed a needle, syringe and vial the doctor left and readied it. Once it was set he sat down on the couch beside Kyle’s sleeping form and pushed the arm of his sleeve up to his shoulder. Cartman held the needle up and flicked the syringe to make sure the liquid would come out and then looked down at Kyle. He was awake. For a second their eyes met, both wide and Cartman’s showed panic, whereas Kyle’s showed fear.

Kyle screamed, shoved Cartman backward where he fell off the couch and dropped the syringe, the needle breaking off. “Ow! What the hell Jew?” Kyle shoved the quilt off him and darted to a nearby corner, backing up against it as if he believed he could disappear into it.

“What the hell were you about to do, fatass? Drug me? Take my blood for some sick twisted experiments? Kill me? Which is it?” he asked screaming erratically at the Commandant. Cartman got to his feet and picked up the broken needle and syringe.

“Try none of the above Jew. Believe it or not I was trying to help your ungrateful ass and here you went and broke one of the needles. Dammit, these are a pain in the ass to load and now I have to do it all over.” Kyle looked in horror at the broken syringe and then at the others that were laid out on the table in front of the couch.

“You’re not coming anywhere near me with a needle fatass!” Cartman snapped a glare to the Jew in the corner.

“You’ll want me to unless you want to get sicker and possibly die Kahl!”

“What?” Kyle gasped softly, like he was confused. Did he not realize just how sick he was?

“Do you not remember passing out last night? You were so sick the Doctor said you had early stages of pneumonia. Here I was trying to help you purely out of the kindness of my heart and you scream and run away like I’m some-”

“You are a monster! Nazi’s aren’t kind!” Cartman saw red.

“You know what, get sicker and die for all I care!” With that, Cartman stormed into the kitchen.

//

After Cartman stormed from the room he heard him yell, “Get the fuck out Clyde! I’ll make breakfast!” Kyle’s eyes followed Clyde leaving the kitchen, met his in a brief warning, and then he continued on to another area of the Villa.

For a while Kyle was a little too terrified to move, he could admit that. But damn, he had woken up a ruthless Nazi holding a needle over him! Who wouldn’t be a little traumatized by that? But Kyle knew that he had to calm down and get his bearings straight. For starters, why was he here in the middle of the day? _The middle of the day?_ Kyle had noticed now the sun coming through the blinds and then found a clock on the wall. Just a little after 10am. Did he really sleep here all night and missed morning breakfast, missed morning roll call? And if he missed morning roll call what did that mean for his family? Were they punished because of him? But the Commandant was here…

Kyle walked back over to the couch to sit down, the endless questions swimming around his head was making him dizzy. A rush of cold air brushed past him, the AC must have kicked on, and Kyle grabbed the quilt beside him to cover up. A quilt? Kyle looked down at the quilt in his lap, confusion wiped all over his face. He hadn’t remembered this blanket on the couch last night, or any other night. He also noticed at his head was a pillow, a very comfortable pillow that he was also sure wasn’t there the previous night. On the floor by his feet he noticed a wash cloth and picked it up. Cartman said he had helped him, but surely he was lying, wasn’t he? The Commandant would never help a Jew if they were sick, especially Kyle whom he knew he loathed entirely. But then, how would be explain the quilt, the pillow and the rag?

Cartman had mentioned a doctor. Did that mean he called one in _just_ to check out Kyle and give him the help he needed? Kyle did feel better, he didn’t feel one-hundred-percent by any means, but at least he didn’t feel like he was going to pass out again. Had Cartman really wrapped him in this quilt, and allowed to him rest here on his couch to recover? As much as he hated that it happened, a smile curved from his lips. Even though he didn’t want to do it, he owed Cartman his gratitude. But first, he really needed the bathroom.

After he had relieved himself, Kyle walked to the threshold of the kitchen but did not enter. He watched as the Commandant stirred something in a pot, added a few spices, and then tasted the concoction. It was then he saw Kyle standing there. “I would have thought you went running away screaming by now,” Cartman said nonchalantly, and went back to stirring what he was making.

“I’m not afraid of you, sir.” Kyle didn’t miss the way his shoulders tensed when he said this and wondered briefly what that was about, but Cartman answered.

“Could have fooled me with the way you woke up screaming as if you saw the boogeyman.” Kyle rolled his eyes but chuckled.

“I haven’t believed in the woogeyman since I was 7.” Cartman put down the wooden spoon he was using and faced Kyle.

“It’s called the boogeyman, Kahl.” Kyle gave a nod of understanding.

“I know, but when I was learning how to talk I couldn’t pronounce the “B” so I just always said the woogeyman and it just stuck as a family joke. Besides my name is Kyle, yet you still insufferably call me Kahl,” Cartman actually laughed at this.

“Duly noted Kahl,” he said on purpose and turned back to the pot. Kyle rolled his eyes with a sigh.

“Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for screaming and shoving you, but I woke up to you holding a needle ready to poke me. Wouldn’t that be even a little terrifying to see when you first wake up, especially being a little disoriented?”  
Cartman did not answer, he just stood there hovering over the pot, looking very tense and stressed and like he would rather be having any conversation but this one.

“Are you hungry Kahl?” Kyle blinked, a bit confused.

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you’re losing your hearing from being sick. I asked if you’re hungry.”

“Oh. Yes actually.” But being hungry was nothing new to Kyle, he was always hungry; everyone in the camp was always hungry. Cartman nodded and went to a cabinet to grab two bowls.

“Go sit back on the couch and I’ll bring you something.” Kyle’s jaw actually dropped. The Commandant was actually being-kind.

“Close your mouth, Kahl, didn’t you learn that you’ll catch flies that way? Let me tell you, not full of protein as people lead you to believe.” Kyle suppressed a chuckle and went back into the living room; he didn’t dare ask details about _that_ statement.

When Kyle sat back down on the couch he covered his lap with the quilt since he was a little cold. After a minute or so Cartman came out carrying two bowls with spoons and gave one to Kyle. “Thank you,” but Cartman only sneered in response and took his own bowl with him to sit in his chair across from Kyle. “Soup? You-you didn’t make this because I’m sick, did you?” Kyle saw the slight rush of color that appeared on the Commandant’s cheeks.

“I was just craving soup, and I always get what I want.” Kyle smirked, left it at that and they both proceeded to eat their soup in silence. _Awkward silence._ Minutes past and the silence was just becoming too much for Kyle to handle, he needed to fill the void somehow.

“It’s delicious, thank you sir,” but Cartman said nothing, his only response was a grunt. Kyle rolled his eyes and tried again. “Would you mind filling me in on some details that I’m still a little confused on?” Cartman gave an exasperated sigh, as if this was such a huge chore for him.

“Look Kahl, it’s not hard to figure out on your own I’m sure. You collapsed last night because you were so sick. I put you on the couch and called the Doctor. He said you had early stages of pneumonia, which I already mentioned, he gave you a shot of antibiotics and a light sedative so you’d actually sleep. So, there you slept,” he said motioning to the couch Kyle was currently sitting on. “Anything else, Kahl?” Kyle blushed, taking in all the information and looked down at the quilt.

“And this quilt and pillow? They weren’t on the couch yesterday, did you have Craig cover me up?” Craig was surely a more logical person to tuck him in rather than the Commandant. Cartman gave a sneer and looked away as if the assumption actually insulted him.

“No, Kahl. The quilt and pillow are mine. I woke up to you shivering like a chihuahua and I so graciously lent you my quilt.” Kyle’s eyes widened as he looked back down at the blanket that was keeping him so warm. _His?_ “Yes that’s right they are _mine,_ go ahead, toss them away like I know you want to. I’m sure you don’t want to catch any _monster_ cooties.” Kyle was actually shocked by his words, he hadn’t even thought of it like that. Kyle had not even considered that he was touching something that belonged to a Nazi, but rather that he was being covered by an act of kindness. _Did he just really mean that about Cartman?  
Maybe he was still sedated._ The look he saw on Cartman’s face was a look of hurt, possibly even self loathing, but why? Well, Kyle couldn’t dwell on it now.

“It’s just very warm, thank you.” Kyle didn’t miss the look of shock Cartman gave him, clearly he thought Kyle would agree with him. Cartman cleared his throat and took another bite of his soup.

“Yes, well, don’t spill anything on it, my grandmother made it for me,” this peeked Kyle’s interest immensely. He examined the quilt even more, this time really noticing the patterns.

“It’s beautiful. Do the patterns have any specific meanings?” again Cartman blushed, perhaps a little uncomfortable talking about something from his past.

“I like cats, I had a gray cat when I was a kid. Her name was Mister Kitty.” Kyle chuckled.

“You named a female cat Mister?” Cartman shrugged.

“She was a kitten when we found her and didn’t know until we took her to the vet that she was female and I had already named her Mister Kitty; we kept the name.” Kyle gave a look of “oh” and traced his pale fingers along the pattern of the cat and then a firefly.

“The fireflies?” Cartman blushed even more.

“Me and Mister Kitty liked chasing them.” Kyle actually bit his lip so he wouldn’t laugh or dare he call his story “cute”.

“And the iris blossoms?” Cartman went from blushing in embarrassment to red with anger.

“This conversation is over.” Kyle dared to not challenge him; not this time. The two continued to eat their soup in silence. Once they were done eating Cartman took both their bowls to the kitchen and placed them in the sink. “I really should give you your second shot of antibiotics, Kahl.” Now that Kyle knew what had really happened, he felt a bit better about the shot.

“Okay.” Cartman narrowed his eyes as if he had been waiting for Kyle to fight him on it. Cartman shrugged it off and then got another syringe ready and sat down next to Kyle on the couch.

“I’m surprised you didn’t fight me more on this.” Kyle raised his sleeve up to his shoulder.

“Hey, you can’t let me die, you need me to teach you to dance, remember?” Their eyes met briefly, Kyle smiling and Cartman looking astounding, but something else Kyle couldn’t place.

“That’s right. We had a deal Kahl and you won’t be getting out of it by dying,” and with that, Cartman stuck Kyle’s arm and plunged in the medicine. Kyle didn’t even wince and when it was done he pulled his sleeve back down and Cartman disposed of the needle and syringe in the kitchen. “Lie back down and get more rest. You can stay here until you’re better. I don’t need you pushing yourself to the point of blacking out again.” Kyle nodded and did as the Commandant ordered. Cartman returned to his chair and picked up a book.

“Aren’t you supposed to be out in the camp?” he asked out of pure curiosity. Cartman opened his book to where he last left off and kept his head down.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night, I had a migraine. Even the Commandant of a camp can have a sick day, now be quiet, I’m trying to read.” Kyle rolled his eyes, laid back down and snuggled his face in the pillow.

“Moonlight Sonata,”

“What?” Cartman asked looking up from his book.

“Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. I heard it last night while I was asleep, or I think I was asleep. It’s all kind of fuzzy, but I distinctly remember hearing Moonlight Sonata on the piano and it calmed me down, helped me sleep. Was someone playing it last night?” Cartman gave a look of disinterest and he scrunched up his face.

“Must have been a side effect of the sedative.” Kyle nodded. _That made sense._ He couldn’t even imagine Cartman playing the piano like a _normal_ person, he should have never even thought it in the first place. The idea was just too absurd.

A few minutes past and Kyle spoke again. “You know, I don’t even know your name.” Cartman snapped his head from his book.

“What?”

“I’ve been giving you personal lessons on dancing and we’re going to spend a lot more time together. Can’t I at least call you by your real name?” Cartman was searching Kyle’s eyes for something, but what that something was Kyle did not know. Maybe Cartman thought Kyle was messing with him. Finally he closed his book and placed it in his lap, giving Kyle his full attention.

“Since I know that you won’t let this go, why don’t we make a game out of it,” _of course he wasn’t about to make it easy._ Then again why would he, this was the Commandant after all. “You get three guesses.” Kyle admitted this was a bit more fun than him just telling him.

“Elliot?”

“Nope, one down,”

“Stephen?” Cartman chuckled.

“Nope, perhaps third time's the charm.” Kyle tried hard to think of names that would fit the Commandant.

“Hm, Clarissa?” Cartman looked offended and Kyle tried not to laugh.

“That’s a girl's name you damn Jew.” Now Kyle was laughing and couldn’t help himself.

“Hey you named your _female_ cat _Mister_ Kitty, thought I’d give it a shot,” Cartman glared at Kyle.

“Smartass Jew.”

“Secretive fatass.” Cartman held his hand up as if he was saying “you got me” but said nothing and only laughed.

“Tell you what Kahl, each lesson I’ll give you three chances to guess my name. How does that sound?” It definitely intrigued Kyle to say the least.

“And if I can’t?”

“Then you’ll never know,” Kyle smirked but nodded.

“You got yourself a game,” Cartman placed his book on the table and leaned forward in his chair.

“Good, now since you’re so persistent on talking rather than resting, I have a question for you.” Kyle actually sat back up giving Cartman his full attention. “Why did you become a dancer? You said you started dancing at eight, why?” This question surprised Kyle to say the least and he looked down at his lap searching for the right answer.

“Because someone said I couldn’t do it.”

“You’re gonna have to give me more than that Kahl.” Kyle sighed.

“When I was eight, I was playing in the park with one of my friends, I was trying to show him some dance moves I had seen on TV. I was god awful, but of course I was I was eight. Anyway, this kid came by the park that day, a kid I had never seen in the park before. He looked so smug, like he was better than everyone even though he was my age. He said to me, “Jews can’t dance, they have no rhythm,” and I was so close to taking that blue hat of his head and shoving the yellow puff ball in his fat mouth, but some older woman with black hair led him away before I had the chance to. My point is, he said I couldn’t do it because I was a Jew, so I set out to prove him wrong. He’s probably a Nazi by now, but I sure showed him that he was wrong because I can certainly dance now,” Kyle said sounding very proud of himself, but when he looked back at Cartman, the Commandant looked horrified. “Sir?”

//

_Cartman, eight years old, had run away from home for a second time that month, this time not paying attention to the path he was taking. He didn’t care if he couldn’t find his way back, he didn’t want to go back. Eventually he came upon a park where other kids his age were playing. He straightened his blue beanie with a yellow poof on top and then walked in the park and sat down on one of the free swings to watch his fellow children play, but he wasn’t about to ask if he could join them; no kids would ever let the_ fat _kid play._

_His eyes fell on one kid that he could just tell he was a Jew from his features and Cartman glared at him. How he hated them. Then the kid started to dance, horribly, in front of one of his little friends. Didn’t that kid realize how stupid he looked, especially in that stupid green ushanka. Cartman got off the swing and approached the two friends just as the Jew fell right on his bottom. “Didn’t you know that Jews can’t dance? They have no rhythm.” The glare the boy gave him was priceless and it really made Cartman smile; he loved getting their feathers all riled up._

_“What did you say fatso?!” the boy shouted, his hands making fists at his sides. Did this kid really want to fight him? Because even though he had more meat on him than the two boys he would still win in a fight._

_“You heard me, you Jew rat, you can’t dance and you’ll never be able to dance! You people can’t do anything!” just then_ she _appeared at Cartman’s side and led him away from a fight that was about to ensue._

_“Let's go home Eric.” Behind him he heard the boy shouting._

_“I’ll show you! I’ll be a great dancer! Just watch!” but he would never see the boy with the green ushanka again…_

//

Until now…  
Cartman snapped out of the memory with a gasp, his breathing was a little erratic. “Sir are you okay?” Kyle asked in legitimate concern. Cartman did not answer, he was in too much shock at the revelation he just had. Sitting across from him was the boy in the green ushanka, the boy he told would never be able to dance, the boy who vowed to prove him wrong; and he had. His heart dropped into his stomach at the revelation that Cartman was the reason Kyle was a dancer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know several of you have seen my tumblr, as well as the negative comment about my story and I just want to say how grateful and blessed I am that so many of you are messaging me to defend me and my fic. It means so much to me that you guys stand up for me and my story. That's what a fandom does for each other and I'm so proud to be part of this amazing fandom. I will not stop this fic just because of an ignorant comment, if anything it makes me want to finish it even more! A huge thank you to each and every one of you who has messaged me, left comments and kudos. I have the best fans following this story.   
> Hope you guys liked this one! Let me know!  
> If anyone wants to follow my tumblr my name is "akashushrenada"


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the first part of this chapter I will excuse myself to the corner because I know I have done a bad thing to my babies. Sad reality of this time.

_//“Who are the Noble and the Wise? Will all our sins be justified?”//_

“I’m so worried about Kyle, he still hasn’t come back since last night, he always comes back,” Ike said in slight panic. He pushed his plate away, unable to eat; he was too worried about his brother.

“Ike, eat your food, not eating won’t get him back quicker,” Gerald ordered his son. Of course he too was worried about Kyle, but he needed to keep Ike going.

“But Papa...”

“He-he’s right Ike. Besides, Kyle w-wouldn’t want you to stop eating b-because of him. He’ll be upset when he comes b-back if he found out you haven’t been eating,” Tweek said, trying to give Ike a convincing smile at his side.

“What do you think happened to him Tweek? He was sick and kept getting worse, what if something bad happened with his health?” Tweek bit his lip. Everything bad that he could possibly think to happen to Kyle had already went through his mind, he was the anxiety ridden freak after all...but he wasn’t about to tell Ike any of that. Tweek didn’t even sleep the night before without Kyle there. They were each other’s security blanket.

“Ike, you ha-have to keep faith that Kyle is o-okay, it’s what he would want.” Ike leaned into Tweek with his head under his chin.

“I know Tweek, I’m just worried about him.” Tweek pulled Ike close in security, he had made a promise to Kyle that when he wasn’t around he would look after his family, but he didn’t do this out of obligation to his friend. The Broflovski’s had become his family too. Tweek was an only child, and his own parents sent him away because he was “different,” but the Broflovski’s did not judge him, and actually enjoyed his company. When it wasn’t Kyle helping him with his workload, it was Mr. Broflovski or Ike, and he helped them. He considered them his family and liked to think they considered _him_ family, but he was too shy to bring up such a conversation.

“Me too Ike,”

“You! Freak!” Everyone turned to a soldier storming through the cafeteria towards Tweek who had released Ike.

“Don’t move and don’t speak Ike,” Tweek whispered as he stood in front of him, as if shielding him even though the soldier called out to Tweek.

“Come with me!” The soldier roughly grabbed Tweek by the upper arm, yanked him away down the aisle and out of the cafeteria. Ike was left behind with tears in his eyes.

“I can’t lose two brothers,”

//

Tweek was thrown into a dimly lit room with a single chair that sat in the middle of it. The room was cold, damp, and smelled metallic, like blood. Tweek knew immediately this was a torture room, a room where the soldiers brought prisoners here to punish them; most of them died from the severity of their punishments. He did not even have to wonder about what he had done wrong, existing was enough to warrant punishment from the Nazis.

Even though there was a chair that he knew he should sit in, he remained standing. The soldiers would have to force him to sit, he was not just going to lie down and take it. The old Tweek would have because he had nothing to live for, nothing that was keeping him going. Absolutely nothing. But now he liked to think he had a new family, a new best friend who helped him get back the hope he’d not had since Craig. And now there was Craig, the man he had loved for years and he returned those feelings. Tweek told himself that he would survive this war in hopes of a future with Craig. So giving up was no longer an option.

Tweek heard the metal door knob start to turn behind him and he readied himself for whatever torture they would bring into that room. But once the soldier stepped into the room and he closed the door behind him, Tweek nearly collapsed in relief. “Craig,” he whispered with as much enthusiasm as he could, because he was sure there were soldiers just outside the door. Tweek did not hesitate to run into Craig’s arms, locking his arms around his neck. Craig held him, held him so tight against his body that it was nearly suffocating, but Tweek didn’t dare complain. They hadn’t had a moment like this since the whipping.

“Tweek, I don’t have much time,” Craig whispered, pulling out of the embrace but still holding Tweek at arms length. Tweek understood and did not protest.

“Please tell me you’re here to tell me something about Kyle. Is he okay? Please tell me you know something, anything. I don’t want to have to face his family with no answers.” All of this Tweek said in a panic, almost in hysterics; he had to be strong for Ike, but around Craig he was often able to lose his resolve.

“Tweek, Tweek calm down,” Craig whispered caressing both of his cheeks. “Yes, I have news about Kyle.” Tweek nodded in Craig’s hands and tried to calm his erratic breathing so he could focus on the information Craig had for him. “Kyle collapsed during his lesson with Cartman. He had a doctor check him out and he had early stages of pneumonia.” Tweek’s eyes went wide in panic.

“What? Where is he now? Please don’t tell me Cartman sent him away,” but Craig shook his head and pushed some of Tweek’s blonde hair behind his ear.

“No, Tweek. Actually Cartman is getting him better. He made sure the doctor gave him shots to get healthy again. He’ll be at the Villa for a few days to recover, make sure you tell his family.” Tweek let out a sigh of relief and melted into Craig’s embrace once again and Craig enveloped him, cradling the back of his head with one hand and the other securely around his waist.

“Thank you.”

“I wish I could do more.” Tweek was in no way naïve, he had zero wishful thinking when it came to Craig in the concentration camp, so any little bit of information helped immensely and he was grateful. Tweek pulled off his chest only slightly enough to cup Craig’s face in his boney hands.

“Just stay _you_ , that’s all I ask, Craig,” Craig brought a hand up to caress Tweek’s cheek.

“For you, always,” and Tweek pulled Craig down for a kiss. The kiss was rushed, but lacked absolutely no passion. They clung to each other while they kissed, gripping the other with the knowledge that any embrace, any caress, any kiss could be their last. “Tweek,” Craig whispered pulling out of the kiss, but still connected their foreheads. “You know that I have to-” Tweek nodded and then kissed the inside of Craig’s palm.

“I know.” Tweek saw Craig’s bottom lip tremble, but Tweek only smiled. “It’s okay Craig.” Tweek stepped back away from Craig and faced down the Nazi he pretended to be.

“I’m sorry,” and Craig punched him, punched him twice, three times, and each time Tweek cried out so the soldiers behind the doors would hear it. Tweek’s nose was bleeding, and so was a scratch on his cheek, but when he saw Craig’s bloody knuckles coming at him again he didn’t know if it was his blood or Craig’s. This time his fist collided with his stomach and he kneeled over, his chin coming to rest on Craig’s shoulder as he cried out in massive pain. “I’m so sorry Tweek.” Tweek could not respond for the wind had been knocked out of him, but yet he dug his fingers into Craig’s arms as if to assure him he would forgive him, even though he knew this was so wrong. Just then the soldiers barged into the room, high on alert.

“Do you require assistance sir?” one asked, clearly wanting to get a piece of the action. Craig snarled and stood back from Tweek, allowing his body to fall to the floor with a loud thud.

“No, we’re finished here, I thought the orders I gave you were to allow me to handle this alone?” Craig challenged turning towards the men, his voice loud with authority.

“Yes sir, but I-”

“A soldier must always follow orders of their superiors if they wish to move up in the ranks. Do not let that slip your mind again soldier.” The addressing soldier stood straight and saluted Craig.

“Yes sir.”

“Good, now get this freak out of my sight,” and without protest, the two soldiers lifted Tweek just beneath his arms and dragged him from the room.  
When Tweek and the soldiers were gone, Craig let out a broken scream, nearly a wail, grabbed the nearby chair and threw it against the wall. He sunk down where he stood. Craig stared at his bloody hands, the hands that he hurt Tweek with over and over. Just how much longer could he keep doing this? There was no justification, this wasn’t love. How could it be? Tweek should never be able to forgive him, and he didn’t deserve forgiveness. “I don’t deserve you Tweek,” and Craig released all his emotions, crying into his hands stained with Tweek’s blood.

//

Over the course of the next few days, Cartman, reluctantly and with constant complaining, helped see to Kyle’s needs to get him healthy as quickly as possible; they had lessons they needed to continue after all. He practically ordered that Kyle not move from his makeshift bed on the couch and he was the one who brought him food, got him water, rewet his cloth when he had a fever, which was only one time more since his last.

Dr. Wyatt returned later than expected, but when he returned he gave Kyle a check up and would administer the rest of his doses of antibiotics personally. He was recovering slowly, had he been in better health before he got sick he would have been able to recover much quicker, but he was so malnourished Dr. Wyatt said he had been surprised his immune system was working at all. 

Aside from getting his body healthier, Cartman also tried to help Kyle’s mind, his nightmares to be exact. He noticed very quickly that every time Kyle would fall asleep he would have nightmares and he just wasn’t comfortable with seeing Kyle struggle.

 _He’s a Jew, Eric, doesn’t he deserve the nightmares?_  
Normally, yes, Cartman would agree, but not Kyle. He could admit, secretly, that Kyle did not deserve any of the nightmares that tortured him. Kyle was different, he saw him differently and he could not understand why. He shouldn’t care that the Jew has nightmares, but he did and he wanted to help keep them at bay. Cartman had fallen victim to his own nightmares and he just didn’t want Kyle to go through the same thing. Again, he could not understand why.

 _You know exactly why, Eric._  
And so, each time that Kyle would fall asleep and Cartman would see the signs of a nightmare, he would go into his music room and play him something on the piano. He tried several different pieces, but he noticed that Moonlight Sonata calmed Kyle down the quickest and he seemed to sleep much better when he played that. So when Kyle slept, it was all he played for as long as he needed to; of course, after midnight Kyle was on his own because he needed _his_ sleep.

One morning, while Kyle was sleeping on the couch, Cartman was practicing the natural box set that Kyle had showed him just before he past out on him nights prior. In his opinion, he was god awful, but then again so was Kyle when he first started. _That_ little piece of memory he would keep to himself. Kyle didn’t need to know that he was the kid in the park who drove him to dance, after all what would it change? Absolutely nothing.  
Dammit, he couldn’t get this damn box thing down like he wanted. He couldn’t keep his toes pointed, he couldn’t move his feet the right way, and more times than not he would fall over his own feet because at the last second he would forget which way he was supposed to turn and panic. As much as he hated failure, he had to keep trying; his reputation depended on it. 

Cartman reset the box and tried again. “You’re practicing.” Cartman nearly jumped out of his skin, he did not expect Kyle to suddenly speak up. He blushed from being caught off guard.

“Yes, Jew, I’m practicing. How will I get any better if I don’t practice? You told me that.” Kyle sat up on the couch and stretched.

“Yes but I didn’t think you’d actually listen to me,” Cartman faced away so Kyle wouldn’t see his blush get even more ruddy.

“Well since you’re awake Kahl, perhaps you could give me some pointers because I can’t do any of this stupid dance.” He was very irritated that he was such a failure and it was showing.

“Your posture has been flawless, you’re top half moves seamlessly, but you’re legs and feet definitely need some work.” Cartman rolled his eyes.

“Tell me something I don’t know, Jew! I said give me pointers, not state the obvious. That’s what you’re here for anyway so tell me how to fix it,” Cartman didn’t miss the eye roll Kyle gave him but decided to ignore it for now; he actually wasn’t in the mood for a fight.

“For starters,” Kyle stood from the couch to approach Cartman, but at the same time Clyde entered the room.

“Sir, the doctors are arriving.” Cartman gave him a confused look.

“Doctors? For what?” Clyde sighed and shook his head.

“Did you even bother to read the telegram that came for you the other day?” And just like that the Commandant felt like a dumbass, but he wasn’t about to say that out loud. Growling in the back of his throat, he walked over to his desk and rummaged around until he found the telegram Clyde had mentioned. 

“Shit,” Cartman snarled after reading the small paper.

“What did it say, sir?” Kyle asked from behind him, not moving from his place in front of the couch.

“Nothing, I’m needed in the yard. Stay here Jew.” Luckily he already had on most of his uniform, even his boots, so he only needed to grab his over coat and hat. He walked over to grab his coat off the rack and started to put it on when a hand firmly, but gently, gripped his forearm.

“Sir, please, what’s going on?” Cartman looked into Kyle’s pleading eyes, begging to know what was about to happen in the camp. As much as Cartman wanted his hand to remain where it was on his arm, he shrugged it off and put on his coat.

“There will be a culling.”

“Wh-what does that mean?!” Kyle asked in panic, so much in fact that Cartman was sure he already knew what it meant; but he still answered.

“The doctors that are here will examine the prisoners in the camp and anyone that doesn’t seem fit enough, or healthy enough, will be sent away.” The fact that Cartman felt sorrow rather than delight when he saw the blood drain from Kyle’s cheeks angered him. No doubt he was worried about his family, but instead of laughing at him and wishing his family ill during this culling, he in fact almost felt apathetic. _Shit, this Jew is making me weak._

“I need to get down there, I need to be with my family.” Of course Cartman wasn’t wrong in his thought process when it came to Kyle. Cartman rolled his eyes when Kyle tried to push past him to get to the front door and he shoved him back.

“You’re not going anywhere Jew, you’re staying right here. I don’t have full faith that you’ll pass the exam and I can’t take any chances on losing the only ticket I have on dance lessons.” He noticed Kyle’s cheeks instantly heat up.

“Who cares about your damn lessons! I can’t leave them down there alone!” Again he tried to get past Cartman, but he knew just how to use his bulk. Cartman pressed the palm of his hand square into Kyle’s chest and shoved him against the wall.

“Okay Kahl, let’s say you make it past me, go down there and stand with your family. What if one of them is chosen to leave? What will you do? Scream, cry, cause a scene that may get you killed? Do you want that Kahl? To be shot dead in front of your family? How could you help them if you’re dead?” _Not to mention me_ , but he wasn’t about to say that because he needed to convince Kyle to stay up here. Their eyes locked for several passing moments, and because his palm was still pressed to Kyle’s chest, he could feel his pounding heart beneath his hand. He could tell that Kyle was riled up and wanted nothing more than to shove the Commandant aside and run off, but he could also tell Kyle thought the points he made were valid. Finally Kyle hung his head in surrender and Cartman dropped his hand to his side.

“You made me a promise sir.” Kyle was looking away, but Cartman was watching him intently. He was testing the Commandant, to see if he would keep his word to keep his family safe per their agreement, he just hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that. He could see that Kyle was very worried, perhaps even terrified when it came to the uncertain fate of his family. Unfortunately Cartman could not sympathize. Nonetheless they did make an agreement.

Cartman looked away from Kyle and finished putting on his coat. “You may think I’m a monster Kahl, but even a monster like me keeps his word. I don’t break promises Kahl,” and he left before he had the chance to hear Kyle say anything.

//

“Thank you,” is what he would have heard, but he practically ran away before Kyle could even form the words and even though he was gone, he still said them. Kyle did not trust the Nazi commander to follow through with his promise, not one bit. But what choice did he have? Whether he liked it or not, Cartman was right. What could Kyle possibly do to save his family without getting himself killed in the process? Kyle was not afraid of dying, but afraid of what he would leave behind. So right now, he would have to trust in Cartman as much as his heart told him he shouldn’t.

Maybe he should try to trust him to keep his promise, he _did_ help get him healthier when he collapsed from pneumonia. He didn’t just help him, he took care of Kyle. Cartman could have easily have had Clyde, or even Craig take care of Kyle, but the Commandant did it himself. Why? Kyle’s eyes drifted to the couch where his pillow and blanket were laid out. “…a monster like me…” The words replayed over and over in Kyle’s head. Early on Kyle knew the word “monster” bothered the Commandant, he was transparent with his reactions when Kyle said it. But as the days past Kyle found himself questioning if Cartman really was the monster he so often called him and believed him to be. Would a monster take care of him, a Jew, even if his reasons were selfish? Would he have even included his parents well-being in the agreement if he was such a monster?

Why was Kyle even considering all of this? He was a Nazi who has killed innocents. The fact that he took care of Kyle meant nothing. He was a murderer and a monster. It was that simple and he needed to stop overthinking it.

He finally looked away from the couch when commotion from outside caught his attention. _It’s already started?!_ With a racing heart Kyle ran to the window to see what was going on. There was a single row of doctors lined up horizontally, each one holding a clipboard. Kyle quickly noticed that Dr. Wyatt was not among the doctors in the yard, so any hope that he had that the doctor who helped him would help his family was shattered. Just to the side of the doctors was Commandant Cartman, and Lieutenant Craig; surrounding the crowd were countless soldiers which was a clear sign there was no room for escape. Kyle searched the crowd until he found his family, happy to see the three of them were standing together. _Please don’t take them. Please._ Kyle silently prayed while it began.

The doctors had the men and boys strip down to only their undergarments and they inspected their bodies. Kyle didn’t realize how emaciated everyone had become, he could practically count a whole ribcage from as far away as he was. _When we get out of this Ike I’m going to let you eat all the ice cream you want after bedtime. I don’t care what Mama says._ He watched the doctors examine the prisoners, if anyone had a rash or even a blemish, they were sent to the opposite side of the yard. Kyle’s stomach dropped and he swallowed saliva. _That side means they won’t be back._ Kyle prayed more when the doctors examined his father, his brother, and Tweek. The doctors noted Tweek’s bruised face and abdomen but didn’t think it worthy enough to send away; he supposed Nazi brutality didn’t warrant someone to be taken away. Kyle made a mental note to find out what happened to his best friend. When the doctors moved on from his family he let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. _Good. That’s good. They’ll be okay. They’re safe._

Or so Kyle thought.

The doctors then had the prisoners run, run around the yard. _They are testing their strength to see if they can still work!_ Kyle’s panic returned just like that and his eyes were glued to his family. Ike and Tweek were running fine, sluggish, but fine. His father however, was lagging behind and nearly falling over. He saw Tweek slow down to help his father, but saw him push Tweek off with a shake of his head. _Dammit Papa, let him help you._ Tweek tried again, but his father stumbled to his knees. “Papa, get up!” Kyle cried from the window even though no one could hear him. A doctor came into the crowd, shoved Tweek aside and grabbed Gerald by the arm and started to practically drag him towards the front of the crowd. “No! No! Papa! Papa! No please no!” Kyle was screaming, he was crying, banging and hitting the window. “Help him please! You said you’d protect him!” Kyle screamed at the Commandant, not caring that his pleas would go unheard. Instead of moving towards his father and the doctor, he saw Cartman and Craig part ways into the crowd, moving _away_ from Gerald. “You promised fatass! You promised you’d keep him safe!” Kyle was hysterical when he dropped to his knees, still banging his palm on the window. There were hot tears streaming down his face from anger, despair, fear, and panic. Cartman was breaking his promise, he was going to let his father get taken and he’d never see him again.

Just as he was lowering his head to give in to his despair, gunshots suddenly went off in the yard. Kyle looked up just in time to see Craig lowering his gun and he quickly looked for the Commandant. When he found him he saw Cartman raise his gun in the air and fired off a few rounds. Pandemonium instantly broke out. The prisoners were running in every direction, running into each other and even the doctors were being thrown around the hectic crowd, that included the doctor who was taking Gerald. But Kyle wasn’t watching the spooked crowd, his eyes were on the Commandant as he made his way through the crowd, shoving anyone in his way. Kyle’s eyes went wide when he saw Cartman grab his father and drag him through the crowd towards the back; no one was paying him any mind because Craig was shouting orders to contain the chaotic crowd.

Kyle lost sight of them when they had moved past the sight of the window. Where was he taking him? Did he really just create a diversion and save his father? Would he ever see his father again? All of this and much more was floating around in his head, his anxiety was his worst enemy right now.  
“Kyle!” Kyle’s heart stopped and his legs became jelly as relief washed over him. He hadn’t heard the front door open down the hall, nor did he hear anyone come in, but there in the doorway to the living room was his father; safe and sound.

“Papa!” Kyle shouted and ran into his father’s arms, and they encircled each other. His father was okay, he was here with Kyle. Kyle cried into his father’s shoulder while they held each other, praying he would never have that scare of being separated again. “I don’t understand, what happened?” Kyle asked when he pulled away, wiping at the tears on his face.

“I thought you Jews took pride in how smart you all are,” Commandant Cartman said as he stepped into the room behind Gerald. Kyle hadn’t even noticed him. “It’s very simple Kahl, I kept my promise,”

“Promise? Kyle what is he talking about?” Gerald asked. Kyle may have told his family that he was giving the Commandant dance lessons, but he didn’t tell anyone but Tweek that in return Cartman would protect his family.

“It’s nothing Papa, I was so scared,” Kyle admitted and returned to his father’s embrace. Gerald let it go, smiled and kissed his son's red curls.

“I’m here my son, I’m glad to hear and see that you are feeling better,” Gerald turned his head towards Cartman. “Thank you for helping my son.”

//

Cartman blushed from Gerald’s gratitude but played it off as anger, which wouldn’t be a total lie. Cartman just saved _his_ life, but yet he was more thankful and concerned that Kyle was okay?

 _That’s what family does Eric._  
Cartman bit his lip and rolled his neck, refusing to acknowledge Gerald’s comment. “To ensure that this won’t happen again, I have decided to allow your father to stay here and work. God knows Clyde could use the help, especially cooking. Do you know how to cook?”

“Yes! Yes, Papa is a great cook! Whatever you want he can make I’m sure,” Kyle said rapidly in place of his father, not out of worry, but out of happiness.

“I do know my way around a kitchen, sir,” Gerald said politely. Cartman nodded, pleased with his answer.

“Good, and make sure this place is dusted every day. I hate sneezing because of dust, I want everything to shine. Do I make myself clear?” Gerald nodded again.

“Perfectly sir,”

“Clyde! Get in here you asshole!” A moment later Clyde walked out.

“What?” Clyde snapped and Cartman groaned deep in his throat.

“Excuse meh?” Clyde rolled his eyes.

“Yes sir?”

“Please show Mr. Broflovski to the room downstairs and help him get settled.”

“Yes sir, follow me please, Mr. Broflovski.” Gerald hugged Kyle one last time, thanked the Commandant again and followed Clyde out of the room.

When they were gone silence stretched across the room like a rubber band, an awkward silence that Cartman detested. Kyle was eyeing Cartman, a look that he didn’t exactly understand and didn’t want to try and figure out. Finally, while avoiding Kyle’s gaze, he decided to speak. “See Kahl, I told you I’m not-” and before he could stop him, Kyle threw his arms around Cartman’s neck and hugged him.  
Cartman froze, his heart rate increased dramatically and he didn’t know if he was terrified or confused; both was his best bet. Kyle was hugging him, _willingly_ hugging him.

“No you’re not, you’re not a monster Cartman.” Cartman’s eyes widened and he nearly came apart. For years he secretly longed for someone to say those words, and coming from Kyle they meant so much more than he could ever relay. “Thank you, thank you for saving him,” Kyle whispered into Cartman’s shoulder, still embracing him.

 _Hug him back Eric._  
But he couldn’t. There were thousands of reasons why he couldn’t, but the main reason was fear. Even though he couldn’t return Kyle’s hug, he could blissfully admit that he enjoyed it. Kyle’s words, and his hug actually made him-happy and he found that he wasn’t opposed to more hugs in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I really do have the best fans! You guys rock and I wouldn't have the happy motivation I have without you guys! Thank you for all the kudos and comments, they really make my day!  
> If you wanna follow me on tumblr my name is "akashakushrenada" and don't be scared to send me an ask. I love interacting with you guys.  
> On a side note, care someone send tissues >. < this is lady has gotten sick!


	14. Chapter 14

_“Are people born wicked? Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them?”_

To say that Cartman had grown accustomed to Kyle sleeping on his couch was an understatement. He had come to enjoy the smile that curled his lips whenever he would see Kyle still asleep each morning, wrapped securely in the confines of his grandmother’s blanket and his red curls splayed over _his_ pillow; he secretly found comfort that he could sleep with _his_ things. Kyle’s very presence in the Villa soothed the Commandant in a way nothing ever had, so when Cartman had to tell Kyle the previous night that he was well enough to return to the barracks the next morning, he would not deny the sting in his chest, but of course out loud he would. Maybe some time away from Kyle would be a good thing for him, that way he could sort out these foreign feelings and get back to doing what made him happy the most--punishing Jews. However, watching Kyle fold up his grandmother’s quilt, knowing he was leaving in only moments, told him this wouldn’t actually be the best for him.

“Just because you have been sick, Jew, is no excuse for your work to be sloppy so I expect you to work flawlessly as you always have,” Cartman said sternly to Kyle, who picked up his quilt and pillow.

“Is that a compliment sir?” Color rushed to Cartman’s cheeks instantly. Yes, it had been a compliment, but damn Kyle had been too smart to see through his bitterness, he should have known of course.

“Of course it wasn’t Kahl, just an observation and my point remains that you are expected to work as you normally would. No free passes just because you were sick.” Cartman rolled his eyes at the smirk Kyle gave him. _What’s he so happy about? Is he that happy about going back to work?_ There was the sting in his chest again. The thought about Kyle being more happy about work than being with him at the Villa was almost a slap to the face. But Cartman had to act like it didn’t bother him in the least.

“Don’t worry sir, I won’t let my workload slip,” Kyle offered the blanket and pillow to the Commandant and he took them in his arms. “Thank you again, for helping me and my family.” Cartman rolled his eyes again and let out a sigh.

“I told you Kahl, it was in _my_ best interest, not yours. I honestly don’t care what happens to your family, or even you for that matter,”

“I know, thank you sir.” So then Kyle believed him to be in this for himself, good. But then, why did he long for Kyle to know that he did care? About him, and even his family? _Shit Eric what is wrong with you?! Kick him out now before he ruins everything!_

_Eric, it’s okay to care.  
Shut up, caring is not an advantage!_  
“Just hurry up and get to work Jew,” he said with bitterness as he turned to set his things down on his chair; he’d put them up later. While his back was still turned, his felt a hand being pressed gently between his shoulder blades.

“Thank you.”

Cartman said nothing to his whisper of gratitude, but his body stiffened in response to being touched; just as it did when Kyle hugged him two nights prior. Physical contact, in the intimate way of a hug or a gentle hand, was foreign to Cartman. The first day of their dance lessons when Cartman pulled Kyle against him had been nearly unbearable. He had openly been angry that Kyle pulled away and left immediately, but he was secretly relieved because the physical contact had terrified him. 

“Get out Kahl,” he did not yell, but with as much venom as he said it with he might as well have. Kyle said nothing more and took his leave. Knowing Kyle was gone, Cartman took a few moments to calm the range of emotions he was feeling because of the Jew. He hated that Kyle was causing a cyclone of emotions that he didn’t understand, but he couldn’t bring himself to hurt the Jew. _Why?_

_Eric, don’t you realize-  
No, stop it. Nothing has changed._ Kyle is a Jew, and he is a Nazi, polar opposites, sworn enemies and that’s how it’ll stay. Cartman made his way to the window just in time to see Kyle enter the yard. He watched as Kyle ran into a tight embrace between Tweek and his brother Ike.

_Why are you jealous Eric?_  
Jealous? He wasn’t jealous and had absolutely no reason to be.

_Are you sure? Don’t you want someone to care about you like that? Don’t you want another embrace from the Jew?_  
“Shut up!” Cartman cried out and decided he needed to return to the yard as well.

//

“Kyle!” Ike yelled the second he saw his brother come back to the yard. Ike ran into his brother’s open embrace and Kyle wrapped him in a vice grip.

“Oh Ike.” Kyle was so thankful to be holding and talking to his brother again. Tweek came right up beside Kyle and looked between them with a smile. 

“Get your ass in here Tweek,” Kyle nearly cried grabbing Tweek’s shirt and yanking him into the hug. “Thank you, thank you Tweek for helping them,” Kyle whispered against his ear. He heard Tweek make a noise, but he still clung to Kyle.  
After a bit the three of them separated and Kyle rubbed Tweek’s face gently, almost caressing the healing bruises. “Tweek what happened?” But Tweek shook his head.

“Later,” so in other words, he didn’t want to say it in front of Ike, for which Kyle was grateful.

“Kyle, something happened while you were gone. Papa was taken away! We have no idea where he went! Kyle I’m so scared!” Ike cried out in a panic and Kyle brought him back into his arms.

“Shh, Ike, it’s okay. I know where Papa is and I promise you he is okay. But I can’t explain right now, we need to work do you understand?” Thankfully Ike nodded and dried his tears. “Good boy Ike.”

Kyle looked between his brother and Tweek and smiled as best he could. “Let’s get back to work before we draw too much attention,” and that was all the talking they were able to do for a while because the guards kept a close watch on them after that. Shortly after Kyle returned to the yard, he noticed that the Commandant returned as well. He was almost surprised by the smile that rose from his own lips when he saw Cartman, but he was still so grateful he saved his father and actually took him out of the hard labor he had been doing. While he didn’t like the idea of being separated from his father, he knew he was safe and would from now on have a warm meal every day and the Commandant was to thank for that.

Kyle noticed that Cartman didn’t seek him out, or even look at him like he normally would and Kyle found that he was slightly bothered by it. He remembered that he had been bothered by it once before, after he returned days later after Tweek’s whipping, but then he was upset and angry over what he had done. Now, was he actually growing fond of the Commandant’s attention? No that was crazy, wanting a Nazi’s attention... _laughable._

During their “lunch” hour, Kyle informed Ike about their father and that from now on he would be safe and they wouldn’t have to be worried about being separated. “What if the Commandant changes his mind?” Ike asked sounding unsure of the situation. That thought had occurred to Kyle as well, but he needed Kyle and he had proven he could keep his promise. So Kyle responded by taking his brothers hand with a smile.

“He won’t, I trust him Ike, please have faith.” Did Kyle just really say that? Had he finally accepted in his heart that he could in fact trust Cartman? He assumed that he should feel revolted at this revelation, but he didn’t, he actually felt secure and happy. In fact he even smiled realizing that he now trusted the Commandant. Kyle sensed eyes on him and looked to the side to see Tweek eyeing him as if he was contemplating something. “What?” Kyle asked matching his almost confused expression. Tweek blinked a few times and shook his head.

“Gah! Nothing!” He knew Tweek was avoiding to tell Kyle whatever he was thinking about, and Kyle respected his reasoning and left it alone. He would never force Tweek with anything, even talking; he wanted him to always feel comfortable around Kyle.

The three of them continued their work after “lunch” ended. Almost an hour later Kyle heard screaming from behind them, followed by the familiar sound of a whip. Kyle saw behind them a soldier whipping a prisoner in the dirt, rather than on display for everyone to watch like the Commandant had done. “Ike, Tweek don’t look,” Kyle warned them, especially to Tweek; who knows how seeing, let alone hearing, the whip would affect him.

“L-listen to your brother Ike,” Tweek said turning Ike away from the scene, for which Kyle was grateful. If the whipping was affecting Tweek, he didn’t let it show. Just as Kyle was about to look away from the whipping, and it did bother him to look away because he knew how wrong it was and would love nothing more than to stop it, someone pushed past him nearly knocking him over.

“Ay! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Cartman shouted in anger approaching the soldier and yanked the whip from his grasp.

“This prisoner wasn’t working fast enough, even when I told him to sir!” the soldier shouted, seeming offended that the Commandant had yelled at him and took his whip. Cartman glared at his soldier and pushed him backwards, almost knocking him over.

“Only the Commandant can order punishments like whipping! You have disrespected my authoritah soldier! Do not let it happen again!” The soldier scurried to his feet in a fit of fear.

“I’m sorry Commandant, it won’t happen again.” The soldier gave him a salute and Cartman threw the whip at him.

“See that it doesn’t. And you,” Cartman yelled looking down at the male prisoner. “Get back to work and see that you do it efficiently.” The prisoner was shaking, but stood up and ran the other way. “Back to your post soldier,” Cartman then walked away, out of sight.

“Did he just help that man?” Tweek whispered to Kyle in disbelief that matched the look on Kyle’s face.

“I think he did.” Kyle wondered why Cartman would save a random prisoner, one who had nothing tied to him, absolutely no obligation to save him.

“Do you think he even knew he saved him?” Tweek asked and Kyle internally groaned. Surely he was aware wasn’t he?

“I don’t know Tweek,” but he hoped.  
Just before the prisoners evening dinner, Kyle was returning from using the restroom, or what qualified as a restroom in a concentration camp, when something caught his eye. Two of the chefs from the cafeteria were crouched over something on the ground. “Maybe we could cook it,” one said and the other looked at the other in revulsion.

“That’s sick, we can’t cook it,” the chef rolled his eyes.

“Like the prisoners could tell, I mean we barely have food as it is. At least this way we can have a little meat,” the other chef sighed.

“This thing barely has any meat on its bones, but I guess we could work with it,”

“Ay! You’re supposed to be in the kitchens! What are you doing back here?!” Cartman demanded, appearing out of nowhere. Kyle realized Cartman was pretty good at appearing out of nowhere, he did it often when he would watch Kyle in the yard. _For a heavy set guy he moves around really quietly._

“Nothing Commandant! We’ll get back to the kitchens right away!” Those two seemed to fear the Commandant more than the soldier he reprimanded earlier. The two chefs bowed to the Commandant and ran off towards the cafeteria. Cartman didn’t hesitate to walk over to whatever they were crouching over, scooped it up and seemed to coddle it.

“It’s okay little guy, I got you,” Cartman turned just enough for Kyle to see that it was a cat, if it was full grown he couldn’t tell, for it looked so skinny and tiny in Cartman’s arms. Kyle watched as Cartman looked around, coddled the cat once more, and then headed in the direction of the Villa. _He really does like cats._ With a smile on his face Kyle entered the mess hall to find Tweek and his brother.

Even though Kyle had just left the Villa that morning, he found himself walking the trail back to it this evening for a dance lesson with the Commandant. Once inside the Villa he had made his way to the shower, as he always did per his lesson routine; his clothes were already laid out on the counter waiting for him. When he was dressed and satisfied that his unruly curls were dry enough, he made his way to the living room to meet up with the Commandant. But while still in the hallway something stopped him in his tracks. 

_Moonlight Sonata?_

Kyle stood frozen in his place, his heart racing with anxiety but yet his mind was confused. He could distinctly hear Moonlight Sonata being played, not on a record player, but in the Villa on a piano.  
During the time he stayed at the Villa while he was sick, he heard Moonlight Sonata quite often, but he just assumed he was asleep; it had helped him sleep and had eased his nightmares. He never imagined someone was actually playing it; he would have never guessed that there would be a piano anywhere near a concentration camp. With quiet footsteps he followed the beautiful music until he noticed a door adjacent to the living room was open, he always assumed that door led to a bedroom.

As he approached the room he wondered who was playing the piano and the only logical person that came to mind was Craig, he could see Craig learning to play the piano if even for his sister. But when he peeked around the open door, he was shocked to find the Commandant at the piano, not Craig. Kyle would have never imagine in his most bizarre fantasies that someone as evil and sadistic as Cartman could play such beautiful music. But then again, his perception of the Commandant had been changing and he was no longer seeing Cartman as the monster he so often called him.

A monster would not save his father, even with their agreement, and allow him a more safe and secure role in the Villa. A monster would not stop a whipping of a prisoner, even if he didn’t order it; Kyle saw right past that façade. A monster would not save a helpless cat and talk to it as if it were a scared helpless creature. And a monster would definitely not nurse Kyle back to health when he had pneumonia, not even with as much as Cartman needed Kyle. He could easily get someone else if something happened to Kyle, the question Kyle asked himself was _‘Why him? Why Kyle?’_ Well, he hadn’t any idea and he decided to not dwell on it, it’s not like he would get any answers from Cartman if he asked him.

With a smile on his face Kyle quietly turned away from the door to make his way over to the couch and sit down; he didn’t want Cartman to see him staring at him. When on the couch he noticed that Cartman’s pillow and the quilt his grandmother made was still on it; as if Kyle never left. Or like Kyle was welcomed back. Kyle unfolded the quilt and placed it over his lap and traced his fingers over the pattern. A monster would not willingly give Kyle his personal pillow, or blanket that his grandmother made; a monster would have let Kyle freeze to death. “You’re not a monster,” Kyle whispered aloud picking up Cartman’s pillow and hugging it to his chest. He had said the same words to him a few days prior when he saved his father, but he realized now he meant them. To Kyle, Cartman was many things, but he wasn’t a monster and he promised himself to stop calling him one.

While Kyle held the pillow against his chest he noticed something that he never had before, it had a sent, the Commandant’s scent. He would have guessed that Cartman would smell like blood and gunpowder, so he was surprised that he had a natural male scent to him, but there was more to it--campfire and cinnamon? Kyle inhaled it with a smile and allowed it to invade his senses.

A while later he was snapped back to reality by a soft meow at his feet. “Oh, hey there little guy,” Kyle said to the cat who rubbed against his legs. “So he kept you?” Kyle didn’t see a monster keeping said cat in his Villa like a pet. The cat meowed again and hopped in Kyle’s lap, demanding to be pet and Kyle happily obliged. “Has he named you yet? Let me guess, Mrs. Kitty,”

“Actually it’s Sabrina,” the grey and white cat jumped from Kyle’s lap and pranced his way over to rub against Cartman’s legs until he finally picked him up.

“Giving a male cat a female name, I should expect nothing less.” Kyle smiled whereas Cartman had a look of annoyance on his face.

“What are you doing here Kahl?” he asked scratching behind the cat's ears. Kyle stood from the couch and placed the pillow and quilt neatly back on the end of it.

“It’s Friday sir, I have scheduled lessons with the Commandant, don’t I?” Cartman gave Kyle a confused look, but it was quickly replaced by surprise.

“I didn’t think you’d be back tonight since you only left this morning,”

“We had an agreement didn’t we, James?” This sent the Commandant in a fit of laughter.

“Wrong. Two left today.” Kyle rolled his eyes with a sigh.

“I’ll eventually guess your name you know.” Cartman gave the cat one last rub and placed him in his chair.

“Sure you will Kahl, since you’re here we may as well go on with the lesson then.” Kyle nodded and without a word of argument, Kyle went right into the lesson.

Cartman had been practicing, that was clear to Kyle, but he was nowhere near perfect. Kyle gave Cartman pointers on how to keep his legs straight and his toes pointed as he moved, and he would try again, taking the advice Kyle gave him. Kyle found himself demonstrating every turn of the box set several times because the turns seemed to be the hardest for Cartman. “Edward, you look like an octopus when you turn,” Kyle sighed the fourth time Cartman tripped over his feet while making a turn.

“Okay Kahl, I’m seriously, first off wrong name again, you have one left. Two, octopus have eight legs, last I checked I have two so your joke is invalid,” Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to contain himself.

“Okay how about a pretzel fatass?”

“Is it salted?” Kyle threw his arms in the air. 

“Reset the box, fatass, and try again!” And the Commandant did, several times he tried and after two hours he was finally making progress. “Yes, good! Much better sir.” Kyle didn’t miss the look of pride that came from the Commandant, he really liked praise and being complimented but Kyle could tell it wasn’t in a self-indulgent way.

They continued on for another half hour until Cartman demanded that they needed to take a break. Cartman made them both glasses of iced tea and for a bit they sat together in silence, Cartman in his chair and Kyle on the couch. Kyle was never comfortable in silence, but when it came to the Commandant it felt wrong, like they were supposed to be talking together. “You really are improving.”

Cartman smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “Of course, I’m the Commandant. I have to be perfect at everything.” Kyle couldn’t help but snort. “What’s your problem, Jew?” Kyle shook his head.

“Nothing, sir.” Kyle watched as Sabrina jumped on the back of Cartman’s chair and laid down just above his head. “Did you go out and adopt him?” Cartman rolled his eyes.

“Don’t play dumb Kahl, I know you were watching me like the sneaky Jew you are.” Kyle rolled his eyes, why didn’t that surprise him. “I don’t know how he got in the camp, he could have come on one of the delivery trucks and got stuck here. But I wasn’t about to let him get cooked by those greedy chefs,” Cartman reached up to pet Sabrina’s head and then lowered it. Kyle started to smile again and quickly took a sip of tea to hide it.

“Since you supposedly know when I’m watching you sir, I assume you know that I heard you on the piano.” The look of panic on the Commandant’s face told Kyle that he in fact hadn’t and now Cartman looked petrified and embarrassed.

“So I play the piano, big deal, go ahead and make fun of me.” That comment shocked Kyle, was he genuinely insecure?

“I was going to say that you play beautifully and you just so happen to be playing my favorite piece,” Cartman blushed and looked at him.

“Really? Don’t play me, Kahl.” Kyle held his hands up in surrender.

“I mean it sir. I’ve danced to many different scores, but Moonlight Sonata was always my favorite. It’s beautiful and elegant, like a waltz.” They both chuckled at the irony of that statement. “You know sir, while I was sick I could have sworn I heard Moonlight Sonata while I was sleeping, was that you?” Cartman rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushed.

“It was me Kahl, I was just bored since you were sleeping so much,” and again, Kyle could see right through him.

“Of course sir, I’m sorry I was so boring. Not that you care, but thank you. The song did help me sleep, and it actually chased away my nightmares.” Cartman did not answer, but Kyle noted the smile he was trying to force off his face. Had he played the song on purpose? To help Kyle? That smile certainly told him so. “David?” Cartman laughed and shook his head. “Dammit, well I tried.” A few more minutes passed in silence. Kyle noticed that Cartman was struggling with something, like he wanted to say something to Kyle but he couldn’t. “Sir if you have something to say just say it, you’re the Commandant after all,” and that seemed to give Cartman the boost he needed and he sat up straighter in his chair.

“Did you mean what you said the other day, that I’m not a monster?” Cartman wasn’t looking at him, like he was afraid of the answer Kyle would give him, perhaps he even expected Kyle to laugh at him; but he wasn’t about to do that.

“Despite what you believe about Jews, sir, we’re not all liars, I for one am not. I meant what I said, you’re not a monster,” Cartman blushed and licked his lips with a smile, as if satisfied with Kyle’s answer. But just as quick as the smile came, it faded.

“You say that now, but you’ll change your mind. Everyone always does.” Kyle was shocked at how much vulnerability Cartman was showing, especially in front of him--a Jew. Right now Cartman looked so meek, so exposed, it almost saddened Kyle to see.

Without even thinking about what he was doing, Kyle approached the Commandant’s chair, got on his knees and took his hands in his own. “You’re not a monster, sir, I think that deep down you don’t believe yourself to be one either. I feel like that’s what people have called you and that’s what you became. You’re a lot of things sir, an inconsiderate jerk, a smartass, and an insensitive asshole, but you’re not a monster.” Cartman said nothing, he didn’t even reprimand Kyle for outwardly insulting him. Kyle thought he would be angry at his bluntness, but Cartman actually looked touched by Kyle’s words. “You don’t give anyone the chance to get to know you, the real you do you?” Again Cartman seemed to be at a loss for words. “What about me? I may die by the end of this war anyway, what would be the harm in allowing me to see the man behind the monster everyone else sees?”

For several moments Cartman said nothing, like he was processing everything Kyle said. Kyle did mean every word, he wanted to get to know the _real_ Commandant, but even more so he wanted to know what made him into this so called monster, after all, evil is created, it wasn’t born.

“Kyle…” Cartman whispered his name, his _real_ name and when he did Kyle instantly got butterflies in his stomach and his heart fluttered; it actually sounded wonderful coming from his lips. Cartman then gripped Kyle’s pale hands and brought them up to his cheeks and nuzzled into Kyle’s palms. The Jew instantly blushed, so much that he was sure his face would ignite, but he didn’t pull away. Cartman’s cheeks were so smooth in his rough hands, and he wasn’t sure he even wanted the Commandant to stop. It was like Cartman was thanking him in his own way, like he was unable to say the words and instead thanked him through a small intimate gesture.  
Eventually he stopped and their eyes locked, Cartman had a smile, and Kyle was sure he looked panicked because he was. Kyle actually liked being so close and intimate with Cartman and found that he wanted more, but it would be idiotic to say so. “Shall we continue the lesson Jew?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live I promise! I'm so so so sorry this chapter took so long. So much has happened and my beta has been busy with this month's NaNoWrimo. Let's hear it for my beta for winning NanoWrimo! Yay! Way to go love! Over 50,000 words and still going strong on her novel! Whoo!  
> So since I missed it, Happy Halloween and Happy Thanksgiving to all those who celebrate it!   
> A huge shout out to my tumblr followers who continue to have my back. I love you guys!   
> I can not tell you how blown away I am by the amount of kudos and comments and followers I am getting. Old and new, thank you so much and I love you guys!   
> Let me know what you think for this one ^_~


	15. Chapter 15

_||"Tell me would you kill, to save a life? Tell me would you kill, to prove you’re right?"||_

The first time he saw them together he was, to say the least, surprised--shocked even. He would have assumed that the first time he saw Kyle and the Commandant they would be fighting, and at each other’s throats; he definitely wouldn’t put it past his son to throw a punch like he had been known to in school. Gerald had heard Kyle multiple times tell Tweek how much he hated the Commandant and how they could never get along and that during their dancing sessions they did fight quite often. But what Gerald had seen in the Villa with his own eyes told a completely different story.

Whenever Gerald saw the two together they actually looked-happy; that was a true shock to Gerald. A Nazi smiling around a Jew, and a Jew smiling around a Nazi? Perhaps the world really was spinning out of control. Not only was Gerald shocked by their demeanors, he was shocked by his own as well. Gerald had assumed that seeing them getting along he would have been angered, infuriated, and would want to immediately put a stop to it. However, the very moment that he saw the smile on his son’s face there was no anger or animosity towards the Commandant.

He hadn’t seen his son genuinely smile in so long he had almost forgotten that his son knew how. So when he would sneak a peak during their dance lessons and see Kyle and the Commandant laughing and smiling, Gerald felt hopeful again. But what hopefulness he felt, he could not say specifically, he just felt _hope._ During the lessons, in fact even when the Commandant wasn’t attending a lesson with Kyle, Gerald saw a side of Cartman he had never expected to exist. He saw, dare he even admit it, a softer side to the Commandant, a side no doubt Kyle helped him bring out. Kyle had always been one to see the good in people and was always humble. How in the world he ever saw any good in a Nazi, let alone a man like the Commandant, he may never know and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Nevertheless, the Commandant did have a softer side to him.

Too often while he worked around the Villa he would see Cartman coddling and baby talking the cat he kept inside; that cat was definitely being spoiled by the Commandant. Gerald had also noticed that the nights before he was to meet with Kyle, he would sit in his music room and play the piano until Kyle would show up. He wondered if he did this on purpose, as if he knew Kyle loved music and wanted to play for him but in a secret way because as soon as Kyle would walk in he would stop playing and get to the lesson. From all their interactions Gerald had to accept that Kyle and the Commandant had become friends, however impossible that sounded in this time of war and despair.

November passed into December and from the looks of their lessons, the Commandant had improved greatly, his dancing now looked more professional and not like an amateur; Kyle really was a great teacher. Gerald began to see their lessons shorten the second week of December, so much that some nights they would not even practice but instead just sit and talk. The first few times the Commandant was across the room in his chair, but as the days went by Gerald would find Kyle and the Commandant sitting on the couch together.

One night Gerald had made some tea for the both of them and when he brought the tray into the living room to give to the boys, he was astounded at what he found. Not only were Kyle and the Commandant sitting next to each other, rather than opposite sides of the couch as they normally would, but the boys had fallen asleep on each other. Kyle had his head on Cartman’s shoulder, and Cartman had his cheek buried in his sons red curls. In that moment it occurred to Gerald that the Commandant and Kyle had become something more than friends. He then wondered if they both had realized this yet, but he doubted it for he knew both of them were equally stubborn. Not to mention a Nazi and a Jew in love? Surely that was some type of taboo.

Knowing that the Commandant and Kyle had to work this out themselves, Gerald chose, for the moment, to leave this discovery alone. With a smile on his face Gerald grabbed the quilt that always remained on the couch, wrapped it around the boys and then took his leave back to the kitchen.

//

He blinked his eyes awake and for a moment was confused. What were these wild red things tickling his nose? When his surroundings finally made sense he realized they were Kyle’s curls. _Kyle’s curls?_ Cartman now realized they had fallen asleep against each other and that Kyle was practically using him as a pillow. The Commandant knew that had it been not too long ago, everything would be screaming inside him to shove Kyle away, to reprimand him for being so close to him, even for touching him; but he found he was no longer able to hear those voices, not as loud or clear anyway.

 _You really have become friends haven’t you, Eric?_  
Yes, they had become friends, he could admit that to himself now. Never in his wildest dreams would he ever have imagined becoming friends with a Jew, yet here they were. Whenever he would see Kyle he felt happy, rather than his day to day resentment and anger he felt and projected.

 _Does being happy scare you, Eric?_  
If it was anyone else he would say yes, but not with Kyle. Though he would probably never admit it to Kyle, he trusted him. Yes he understood that trusting a Jew went against everything he and the regime stood for, but Kyle was different. Oh so very different.

He enjoyed his lessons with Kyle and now looked forward to each and every one. Cartman really did like hearing Kyle talk and had learned so much about the red haired Jew in just a short time. Kyle had asked Cartman to open up to him about his life but he would always deny him access to his past and Kyle would leave it alone; he was thankful he wouldn’t pry. While he trusted Kyle, he wasn’t ready to open up about his past.

More than spending time with Kyle, Cartman had grown accustomed to their physical contact, be it the dancing, or a random hug from Kyle, or even a brush of his bony hand. He was used to the contact so much he had begun to crave it, so when their dancing became more intimate he welcomed it and took advantage of any chance to hold Kyle in his arms.

Every step of the way there was a battle inside himself, telling him to just be rid of the Jew, but as the days went by Cartman was overcoming the screaming voices so much that now they were barely whispers in his ear. He knew that without Kyle, he would no longer be able to feel the happiness that he would not allow himself to feel in twelve years.

Allowing himself to have just a moment of indulgence, Cartman nuzzled into Kyle’s curls, even inhaling his scent. It occurred to Cartman that this may not be his natural scent, but a mask created by the labor of the camp and the scented soaps of the Villas shower. Would Kyle smell different if they met under normal circumstances?

Knowing it was useless to wonder, he remained in the here and now and continued to indulge in the fiery curls. More than anything Cartman wanted to run his fingers through these untamed locks, but did not want to risk waking the Jew. He did not think Kyle would mind the intimate closeness, but still would rather not risk it. Unfortunately his indulgence was short lived because his bladder was screaming for relief. As easily and carefully as he could, Cartman wiggled out from Kyle’s weight and eased him down fully on the couch. He adjusted the quilt up to Kyle’s neck and made sure he was securely tucked in. After brushing his curls back one last time he departed for the restroom.

After relieving himself he made his way to the kitchen for a drink, he realized after getting up that he woke up with a parched throat. When he reached the kitchen he realized he was not alone. “Up early Mr. Broflovski?” Cartman groaned sounding groggy. Gerald halted in his movements around the kitchen to give the Commandant his undivided attention.

“On time to start preparations for your morning breakfast sir. Shall I start the coffee early?” Gerald asked, moving towards the canister containing the grounds.

“You mean it’s almost sunrise? So then Ky-” but the Commandant stopped himself before he could finish that statement aloud. Almost sunrise means him and Kyle slept through the night, _together._ Without realizing it was happening, a blush crept up on his cheeks.

“Sir, should I wake and dismiss my son?”

“No, let him sleep for now. He can eat breakfast here and we’ll go down to roll call together. It’ll be fine,” Cartman said and then let out a yawn. “Coffee please Mr. Broflovski,” Cartman finally answered as he sat down at the table. Gerald nodded and started brewing the coffee immediately. Not too long after he handed the Commandant a mug of coffee with the perfect amount of creamer. “You know Mr. Broflovski, I have to admit you do make a better brew than that asshole Clyde,” he said after taking his first sip.

“Thank you sir.” Gerald turned back to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

“Just oatmeal this morning,” Cartman ordered and Gerald nodded with compliance. Minutes past in silence while Gerald cooked and Cartman nursed his coffee, but the silence was short lived when Gerald cleared his throat.

“Commandant, if I may speak freely?” Cartman glared in his direction, almost offended that he dared to even ask the question.

 _This is Kyle’s father. Behave, Eric._  
Cartman took a collective breath, or rather several, and nodded to Gerald. “You may, Mr. Broflovski, though I can assure you I can and will take back this leniency at any moment I so choose. Speak smart and fast.” That was being nice wasn’t it? Gerald nodded in understanding and turned to face the Commandant at the table.

“Do you have a girlfriend, you know, outside the camp?” Cartman found that a very odd thing to ask, not to mention completely out of the blue.

“I don’t. Don’t really have much luck in that department,” he said like it wasn’t a big deal at all. Cartman had dated one girl in his life and that was in high school after he had joined the regime. Her name was Heidi and apparently her rotten friends had dared her to date him to humiliate him. It was a straight up joke.

“I see, what about a boyfriend?” This rattled the Commandant’s feathers and he instinctively went on the defensive.

“What type of question is that you stupid Jew! I’m not gay!” But Gerald only smiled from across the room. _I could wipe that stupid punk ass grin off his beardy little face!_

“Sir, with all due respect, that is not what I asked. I simply asked if you have a boyfriend back home.” Cartman pushed his hair out of his face and gave a small pout while sipping from his mug.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” he mumbled so softly it was a miracle Gerald actually heard it. With the way this conversation had been going, Cartman should had expected and been ready for the next question, but he was severely blind sided.

“Have you ever been in love?” He wanted to act in anger, to again retaliate and to put this Jew in his place for daring to ask such a thing. He wanted to, but that was not how his body or mind reacted. He was calm, but his brows were furrowed, he was doing his best to keep his emotion in check.

“I have been told that I am incapable of love Mr. Broflovski. You’ve seen the things I’ve done, you’ve seen the man that I am. Wouldn’t you agree?” Gerald showed no signs of backing down, he held his ground strong in front of the Commandant.

“That is the second time, sir, that you have avoided my question rather than giving me a straightforward answer. Since you will not answer me directly, I will answer you. Yes I know the man you are around the camp, but I’ve also seen another side of you and so has my son.” Cartman could have sworn that his stomach turned inside out. What was this elder Jew getting at? “You’re a different man around my son, sir, and sometimes I feel like it is because of my son that you are a different man, a good man.” Cartman felt his heart leap, but good or bad he could not tell. _A good man._ The words played repeat over and over in his head for several minutes, several hours, or just several seconds he did not know.

“But still not good enough for your son is that it?!” Cartman snapped in hostility. There was no way a _Jewish_ father was about to give a Nazi his blessing for loving his _Jewish_ son. Cartman froze in panic. Did he just admit to himself that he loved Kyle? No! No, absolutely not, that’s not what he meant at all.

“Sir, if you’ll just hear me out-” But the Commandant would not listen. He stood so fast from his chair that it fell over backwards, and he slammed his hands onto the wooden table.

“Not only have I been told that I am incapable of love, but I have also been told that no one could ever love me. So you don’t have to worry about your precious son loving someone as disgusting and despicable as me, got it? I swear not to taint your pure son! This conversation is over!” Cartman started to storm out of the kitchen when he nearly collided with Kyle.

“I can’t believe I stayed here all night, why didn’t you wake me?” But Cartman ignored him and continued to shove past him in a rage.

“Cartman?” Kyle whispered in worry, watching him brute all the way down the hall until he disappeared. Kyle now glared and entered the kitchen to see his guilty looking father.

“Papa what did you say to him?” he asked placing his hands on his hips. Gerald merely shrugged his shoulders.

“We merely tried to play a game of twenty questions and he’s not very good at it.” Gerald grabbed a bowl and scooped some oatmeal into it. “Now eat, my son, before you’re late to roll call,”

//

“God damn it’s cold,” Ike cursed hugging his shovel against him in the freezing cold. The snow began just at the beginning of December, it wasn’t a blizzard or anything, just a few inches and unbearably cold.

“Language Ike. I know it’s cold, but we have to try to bear it. Be thankful we have these gloves.” Ike pursed his chilled lips and rolled his eyes. The prisoners were not permitted extra clothing just because the temperature had dropped, not even extra socks. However, Kyle and Ike were “fortunate” enough to be given a pair of gloves, courtesy of the Commandant; Tweek had his own pair of gloves that he had to assume were because of Craig. Gloves weren’t the only thing that the Commandant had given the brothers, he also sent Kyle back one night with two extra blankets and extra socks, and Ike had refused at first to use any of it.

 _“Kyle I won’t! They are from_ him. _I don’t want to use anything that comes from him,” Ike whispered with venom lacing his words. Kyle simply rolled his eyes and placed the blanket on Ike’s lap._

_“Do as I say Ike, you will use the blanket,” Kyle demanded, keeping his hand firmly on the blanket so Ike wouldn’t throw it back at him. Ike could not believe how much Kyle had come to sound like their mother the more time they spent in the camp; sometimes it infuriated him, other times he welcomed seeing a bit of his mother even though she wasn’t physically here._

_“But Kyle how can you stand to accept something from him? He’s a monster, the whole camp knows it.” And there was his mother’s glare staring back at him through Kyle._ God damn that’s terrifying.

_“He’s not a monster Ike, and I will have enough of you calling him so.” This irritated the teen._

_“And what would you call him if not a monster, Kyle?” His brother didn’t even seem to think about his answer, he smiled and spoke immediately._

_“Damaged.” Ike didn’t understand. What was he missing? Lately Kyle seemed to defend the Commandant at every turn, with family only; had he said something to the other men they would think he was crazy and most likely rally to end him. Prisoners turning on prisoners was common, it wasn’t anything new. “Now go to sleep Ike,” Kyle said tucking him in with the extra layer of fabric._

_“Kyle.”_

_“Yes Ike?” Ike blushed and readied himself for what he was about to say to his brother._

_“There’s been talk around the men. They say that the Commandant-” he paused unable to say what he really needed. He fisted the blankets and bit his lip, willingly himself to go on. “They are saying that the Commandant is making you do things, inappropriate things and is really hurting you. Is this true Kyle? Please I’m old enough for the truth,” Ike pleaded with his brother to be honest with him. If the Commandant was keep his family safe by doing inappropriate things with his brother he would beg his brother to stop--they weren’t worth it. For a brief moment Kyle seemed to be shocked, perhaps that the other men had formed such conclusions about him, but he relaxed and smiled at his brother, even gave him a pat on the head._

_“Ike, I promise the Commandant isn’t making me do anything like that and I promise he isn’t hurting me.” Ike returned his smile, after all his brother would never lie to him._

_“Okay, good night Kyle.”_

_“Good night Ike.”_

Ike shoveled a mound of snow into a pile, most of the prisoners tasks was to make sure the yard remained free of snow, which was hard because it kept snowing. If these “gifts” weren’t due from some twisted fantasy of the Commandant’s then were they genuine? Did he actually care about Kyle and his family? Why? _Ugh this is too confusing!_ Ike groaned and picked at the snow. There was something he wasn’t seeing, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see it. Was he really so jaded?

“Hurry up Jews! All that snow has to be cleared before roll call!” a soldier yelled at them from the sidelines. There was a group of soldiers huddled together with layers of coats and scarves, even woolen hats, smoking and drinking something Ike assumed was alcohol. Everyone in the yard worked while the soldiers kicked back and got drunk, it was becoming a normal occurrence; probably because of the festive season coming up.

Roll call was minutes away and the prisoners scampered to finish the last of the shoveling and then lined up. Half way through roll call he realized he didn’t put away his shovel. _Shit!_ He prayed silently that no one would notice, and if they did he would not be reprimanded. As soon as roll call ended, Ike ran through the crowd of people to quickly put away his shovel; he wasn’t about to get caught with it because he knew the soldiers would assume he was stealing it. _Yeah because I need to sleep with a shovel under my pillow._ He made it back to the shed undetected and let out a sigh of relief after he successfully put it away. He was about to turn the corner to make his way back, when someone grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him back roughly.

“What’s the small Jew doing away from his flock?” It was a soldier, a very intoxicated soldier it looked and smelled like to Ike.

“I forgot to put away my shovel sir. I’m sorry, I’m heading back now.” Ike tried to push past the soldier but the man shoved him back against the wall of the shed.

“You’re not going anywhere kid,” the soldier slurred and then touched Ike’s face with a flimsy hand. Ike jumped at the contact. “Scared of me, Jew? You should be,” the soldier purred, grabbing ahold of Ike’s chin roughly and yanked him forward. Knowing what was coming, Ike sealed his lips shut just moments before the soldier made contact. “You little punk open your mouth!” the soldier demanded trying to pry Ike’s mouth apart with his tongue; the smell of alcohol was nearly overpowering Ike’s senses but he kept resisting. The soldier hissed as he grabbed Ike’s wrists and shoved them above his head, then pressed his knee in between his legs; Ike’s eyes went wide with panic.

“Let me go, let me go!” Ike pleaded, wiggling as much as he could in the soldiers iron grip; which was surprising for a man so drunk.

“Not until I have my fun, little Jew.” Ike closed his eyes while the soldier trailed his hand down Ike’s chest, to his stomach, and then---he stopped? Ike opened his eyes just in time to see the soldier yanked off him and thrown to the side by the collar like a rag doll. While he was catching a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, he watched as the Commandant lifted the man by the collar, shoved him against the wall of the shed and punched him several times. When the soldier’s face was covered in blood and he fell to the ground against the shed, the Commandant pulled his pistol on him.

//

“Let’s get out of the cold, come on Ike,” Kyle said, turning to his brother about to head into the mess hall together. “Ike? Ike? Tweek, where’s Ike?” Kyle asked his friend in a panic and they both looked around.

“Gah! He was just here beside us!” His body started shaking, clearly worried about “his” younger brother.

“I have to find him.”

“Go, I’ll sneak you both some bread,” Tweek assured him and then Kyle nodded in thanks and ran off before everyone disappeared into the mess hall. He ran and searched for Ike, not daring scream his name as to not draw soldiers attention. After a few dead ends, he heard commotion around the corner and followed it. He arrived just in time to see Cartman beating up one of his own soldiers and Ike against the wall looking horrified; it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

“Ike!” Kyle screamed, running to his brother’s side. “Ike are you okay?!” He probably sounded hysterical but he didn’t care, his little brother had been attacked.

“Kyle, Kyle I’m fine. Nothing happened, the Commandant showed up in time.” But the worried look on Kyle’s face said he didn’t believe his younger brother. “Kyle I promise I’m fine, but I don’t think he is.” Ike turned his head to face the Commandant, not the soldier he was beating up. Ike was right, he wasn’t okay at all. The Commandant seemed…lost. Kyle hadn’t seen that look in his eyes since the day of Tweek’s whipping. He looked crazed and lost.

Cartman then pulled his pistol on his soldier and readied it to fire. “Cartman no!” Kyle yelled running to his side and gently laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t do this, he doesn’t need to die!” Kyle yelled trying to get Cartman to come to his senses.

“You didn’t see what he did Kahl! He attacked your brother and if I hadn’t stepped in he would have--”

“I know,” Kyle said firmly, squeezing his arm. He didn’t need to finish his statement, he knew what would have happened. “You arrived in time, you saved Ike. No one needs to die, the killing needs to stop.” But Cartman didn’t lower his gun, instead it began to shake from his hand. Kyle noticed and gently covered his shaking hand with his own pale one. “Prove to me you’re not the monster they think you are.” That struck a cord and he heard the Commandant lightly gasp. “Sparing a life, is much harder than taking one,” Kyle whispered in his ear and then finally Cartman lowered his pistol to his side. Seemingly relieved the soldier fell to the side unconscious.

“Luckily I know this particular soldier and I know he blacks out when he is drunk. He won’t remember anything when he wakes up. Tend to your brother, there will be no lesson tonight.” Without even looking at Kyle, he took off in the direction of his villa; Kyle’s eyes following him.

They arrived back at the mess hall just in time so that Tweek _wouldn’t_ have to steal them food back to the barracks. “Ike are you okay?!” Tweek panicked pulling Ike into a bear hug.

“I’m fine Tweek, as I’ve tried to tell my stubborn brother but he won’t listen,” Ike said, rolling his eyes.

“Ike you don’t have to pretend for me,” Kyle told him, placing his hand on Ike’s shoulder but Ike shrugged him off.

“For heaven's sake, Kyle, I said I’m fine and I meant it. To be honest, I’m-I’m more worried about the Commandant. He saved me, but there was something wrong with him. Kyle…” Ike placed his hand on Kyle’s and gripped it firmly. “I understand now.” Kyle was confused, what did he understand? “Go to him Kyle.” Kyle’s heart began to beat faster.

“But Ike, you need me.” Ike shook his head and squeezed his hand.

“ _He_ needs you Kyle, go to him.” Kyle blushed, but was proud of how grown up his brother was becoming every day.

“Thank you Ike,” Kyle said giving Ike a hug and then turned to Tweek.

“Go Kyle,” Tweek said giving him a pinky promise that he would watch over Ike. Kyle hugged them both and then left the back way out of the Villa and headed towards the Villa.

There was no shower tonight, he needed to see the Commandant immediately. When he entered the Villa, Clyde told him that Cartman was in his study. “Be careful, he isn’t himself,” Clyde warned him. Kyle merely gave him a fearless smile.

“I know.” And Kyle walked on to find Cartman. He did not knock on the door to his study, but he did open it slowly and announced himself. “Sir, it’s Kyle.” But there was no answer as he came in. When he stepped inside and closed the door behind him he noticed that almost everything was thrown from his desk and there were glasses shattered against the wall beside them. _I should have followed him immediately._ But there was no changing it now.

Cartman stood with his back to Kyle, hands placed on his desk and hunched over it. Realization hit Kyle like ice water to the face. The reason he looked so lost was because Cartman was not mentally in the here and now, he was in another time, his past; and it seemed to Kyle that it was a painful past. Kyle slowly walked up behind Cartman and carefully placed his hand on his back between his shoulders. When he did not push him away, he hooked both his arms under the Commandant’s and rested his cheek on his back. “Come back to me.”

Minutes past in silence with neither of them moving and for once, Kyle allowed the silence; he knew Cartman would speak when ready. Finally Kyle felt the Commandant gently place his hand on one of his. “I will always come back to you Kyle,” Cartman whispered and Kyle stepped away slightly with a blush on his pale cheeks. Cartman turned to face him, at the same time lacing his hand with Kyle’s and kissing it. “Thank you.” He was sure his face was now on fire, but he had to ignore his fluttering heart. Cartman still needed him.

“Let’s sit down,” Kyle suggested and pulled Cartman over to the couch that sat in front of a roaring fireplace. They sat down together, very close, their hands still locked. On the table in front of them Kyle noticed a picture frame with the glass smashed inside it. “Do you mind?” Kyle asked, motioning to the picture frame. Cartman shrugged, but nodded.

“You’re about to find out anyway,” he said and Kyle could have sworn he heard his voice crack. With the hand not holding Cartman’s, he reached for the broken frame. Being very careful not to cut himself, he turned the frame over so all the broken glass fell on the table and then turned it back over and brought the frame closer. In the glassless frame was a black and white photo of a young chubby boy who didn’t look at all happy to be taking the picture, Kyle knew immediately it was Cartman. Behind Cartman, leaning down to his height and smiling at the camera was a girl with long dark hair; she looked to be a teenager.

“She’s very pretty, who is she?” Kyle asked looking back to Cartman. Kyle watched as tears began to form in his eyes.

“Her name was Irisviel. She was my sister, and she was killed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I come back after all this time and give you guys a cliffy...but there you go! I know I'm breaking canon, but I had this planned from the beginning. Hope you guys still love me even though I'm breaking canon. ^_~
> 
> I live I promise!!! I'm so sorry this chapter took so long. The holidays have been super brutal for me. My body is about spent >. < But I do hope all y'all have had a good holiday, no matter what you celebrate. ♡♡♡ Happy Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa and now HAP-PY New Year to all. I will see you all in 2018!  
> If you'd like to follow me on Tumblr I try to keep updates on my chapters progress. Username is akashakushrenada Drop me an Ask, I love answering you guys!


	16. Chapter 16

_//“There’s a place, that I know. It’s not pretty there and few have ever gone. If I shown it to you now, will it make you run away?”//_

“You have a sister?” Kyle asked, seeming taken aback by Cartman’s admission. The Commandant merely rolled his eyes and tried his hardest to not sigh in aggravation.

“Yes Kahl, a sister. I didn’t think I stuttered when I said it.” It was Kyle’s turn to roll his eyes and as he did so he nudged Cartman’s shoulder with his own.

“Smartass. I just didn’t expect it, you don’t exactly talk about yourself you know. You know quite a bit about my life before the camp, but I know nothing about you. You’re pretty much a closed book.” Cartman chuckled and looked Kyle dead in the eye.

“And yet knowing nothing about me, you somehow care about me?” It wasn’t a question, it was a fact. Cartman knew he cared about Kyle, and he sure as hell knew Kyle cared long before he did. A smile came to his face when he saw Kyle’s face instantly turn the exact color of his own hair.

“I didn’t say that fatass!” Kyle snapped turning his flushed face away from the Commandant.

“Whatever you say, Jew,” Cartman said with a smirk. He knew it was true when he stood back and thought about it. Even though Kyle only knew him as ‘The Commandant of a concentration camp,’ he still seemed to want to be around him and care about him.

_Just because he doesn’t know your past doesn’t mean he doesn’t know the real Eric._  
Cartman smiled at the thought. That was true. These past few months Kyle was bringing out the good in him, the real him, the Eric he always wanted to be. “Do you think,” Kyle started softly, turning his attention back to the framed photo. “that you will ever open up to me? I know you don’t trust Jews, but maybe you could try to trust me.” He never looked at Cartman, but Cartman looked at him, with an almost shocked expression. Didn’t Kyle know by now that he did trust him? Had he not made that clear the more time they spent together? Well, he shouldn’t be that surprised, he wasn’t exactly good at expressing himself.

Cartman sighed and slipped his hand into Kyle’s, lacing them together as if it was the most natural thing to do. “I do trust you, Kyle.” He heard Kyle gasp, it was faint, but he heard it; clearly he didn’t know that Cartman trusted him. Kyle gave him a smile and squeezed his hand.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever addressed me by my actual name.” Again Kyle blushed. “It sounds good, coming from you,” Kyle said, rubbing his thumb against Cartman’s hand.

“Well if you like it then I probably shouldn’t ever say it again,” Cartman said with a smirk, and in turn Kyle laughed.

“Fatass.”

“Jew.”

Minutes passed in silence, a silence they were both comfortable with. Kyle was not asking nor pressuring Cartman to spill his life’s story, and for that Cartman was very grateful. That being said, he did feel that maybe he should open up to Kyle, that he _could_ open up to Kyle. After all if there was one person he would want to confide in, it would definitely be Kyle. Kyle opened up to him about many past times in his life, perhaps it was time Cartman reciprocated. “I’ll bet you think that I was a pretty good kid before I signed up for the regime,” Cartman started, looking straight ahead at the burning fireplace in front of them; he saw Kyle look at him from his peripheral but he kept his attention forward. “Well I wasn’t. I was always rotten, even as a child. My mother was rarely ever home, and when she was she spoiled me. I guess to make up for hardly ever being there.”

“Did her job keep her that busy to where she couldn’t spend time with her son?” Kyle asked in bewilderment. Cartman threw his head back in a laugh, but not one of amusement, but rather mock hysterics.

“A job? If you wanna call it that I suppose. My mother was, what’s a nice way to put this? She was an “escort” if you will, a top dollar “escort”.” Cartman made sure to apply air quotes when saying the word “escort” in hopes that Kyle would understand what he was getting at. From the look of acknowledgment on Kyle’s face, he knew exactly what he meant. Simply put his mother was an expensive whore. “As I said when she was home she spoiled me and I in turn became a brat. I was as close to a “snobby rich boy” as you can get. She gave me anything and everything I wanted. My mother loved me, but I don’t think she knew how to love me in the right way; a healthy way. I don’t mean food, although she kept me very well fed; too much. Believe it or not I wasn’t always this big boned and muscular,” Cartman said flexing his opposite arm, an action that made Kyle shake his head with a small laugh.

“I was constantly bullied for my weight, but not only for that but because of what my mother did. Everyone knew, no one was stupid. I was always called the “son of the neighborhood whore” and people always told me that my mother didn’t even know who my father was because she slept with so many men. Wouldn’t that make anyone angry? I myself thought so, and what happened? I lashed out, picked fights, and became very bitter.” The Commandant was thankful that Kyle was listening rather than talking, Cartman didn’t think he could stop now that he was actually saying all of this.

“Irisviel, Iris, was a few years older than me and she was more of a mother to me than a sister. When my mother wasn’t around, Iris was the one who took care of me and tried to raise me. She was more of a mother to me than my own mother. She always made sure I had lunch to take to school, she would make sure I always made my bed, that I brushed my teeth, and that I picked up after myself.” Cartman released Kyle’s hand and leaned forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and wrung his hands together.

“I was so cruel to her. Because my mother had spoiled me, I fought Iris every step of the way. I would yell and do anything I could to get out of anything she wanted me to do, but Iris would never yell back. I loved her, I was just too spoiled to see what she was trying to do would have been good for me. She didn’t have the chance to be a normal teenager because she had to raise me.”  
Kyle placed the picture frame back on the table and moved closer to Cartman.

“Your sister really cared about you.”

Cartman nodded. “She did and I was an idiot. If I got into a fight at school she was the one to come pick me up, never my mother; the school could never even reach my mother. Iris would lecture me about my behavior, but never ever raised her voice. If I was being bullied, she would step in to defend me and put a stop to it. Iris would always be the one to do what my mother couldn’t.” While Cartman focused ahead of them, Kyle wrapped his arm through Cartman’s and leaned into him.

“Didn’t your mother see the pressure she was doing to Iris?” Kyle asked curiously. Cartman rolled his eyes and groaned in annoyance.

“My mother treated Iris worse than I ever did because she barely ever acknowledged her existence. Even though I was a first class twat, I still knew she was my sister and I did love her. But Mom, it was like Iris was invisible to her. It hurt Iris, I could see it a few times in her eyes, but she would smile at me like there was nothing wrong. Iris made me her first priority, never herself or her feelings.”

“Why would your mother treat her so differently?” Kyle asked seeming shocked at the knowledge. Cartman rolled his shoulders and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I never found out. I came to hate my mother after Iris was killed; I came to hate a lot of things after she was killed.” Cartman paused, he wanted to get his bearings before he completely delved into the events of his sister’s death. It seemed Kyle sensed his stress because he found his hand again through his arm and squeezed it.

“If you’re not ready to tell me you don’t have to. You’ve already told me so much, that alone means a lot to me.” The side of Cartman’s lips curled into a smile, it was weak, but it was a smile.

“It’s okay Kyle, I’m ready.”

Kyle nodded his head and rested it on Cartman’s shoulder and again squeezed his hand.  
“I’ve got you.”

Cartman smiled and began. “Iris only yelled at me one time, and it was the day she died.”

//

_September 16th, 1933  
“Eric, eat your spinach,” Irisviel said while washing the dishes she used to cook with. Nine year old Eric Cartman pouted at his place at the table._

_“I don’t want my spinach! It tastes like shit!” he cursed pushing his spinach to the side of his plate._

_“Eric, don’t curse. It’s very rude,” Iris said calmly as she rinsed a plate and put it in the dish rack on the counter. Cartman put his elbow on the table and pouted into his fist. “Elbows off the table, Eric.”  
Cartman glared at her back as he took his elbows off the table, wondering how she always knew what he was doing without ever actually seeing him do it. Cartman was about to finish his spinach when he heard someone come in the door._ Saved! _Cartman shoved his chair out from under him and took off for the living room. “Eric get back here and finish your greens!” But he didn’t listen._

_His mother and a man, a Jewish man named Max Weinstein came into the house. Usually the men that came into the house were grumpy and assholes, but Cartman liked Max because he always brought him a gift or lots of candy. “Hi Max,” Cartman said excitedly, wanting whatever Max brought for him that day._

_While his mother was busy putting away their hats and coats, Max turned to Cartman and got down to his level. “There’s my strapping young lad,” he said, putting his hand on the small of Cartman’s back and rubbed it. “Have you been a good boy Eric? Only good boys get treats,” Max said smiling to the boy. Cartman nodded and bounced on the balls of his feet._

_“Duh. Now gimme gimme,” Cartman said eagerly, holding out his hands waiting for his gift. Max laughed and gave Cartman the bag he was carrying._

_“The best chocolates I could find, just for you, Eric.” But before Cartman could take them, he felt himself being yanked away and the bag of chocolates snatched out of his grasp. He was now standing behind his sister and looked up to see her amber eyes blazing at Max._

_“Eric hasn’t finished his dinner and he isn’t allowed sweets before bed. Eric, go wash up for bed,” Iris demanded, keeping her eyes locked on Max, making sure Cartman remained behind her._

_“But I’m not tired and I want chocolate!” Cartman was attempting a tantrum, but it fell short seeing how serious his sister was being._

_“Now, Eric!” Cartman was thrown back, she had never once yelled at him and it actually hurt the small boy. Instead of crying, he did what he always did--he lashed out._

_“You suck Iris! I hate you!” Cartman turned and ran upstairs to his room, making sure to slam the door behind him. Not long after he heard yelling and screaming from downstairs; his mother and Iris were fighting. His mother hardly ever acknowledged Iris, but when she did they always ended up fighting. Not wanting to hear the fight, Cartman threw himself on his bed and tried to muffle the noise by covering his head and ears with his pillow._

_Later he found that he couldn’t sleep, so instead he sat up on the edge of his bed reading a book by the lamp on his bedside table, holding his Clyde-Frog stuffed animal in one arm. Sometime later someone entered his room unannounced. “Go away Iris,” he said bitterly never looking away from his book._

_“It’s me, Eric, I came to check on you. I know how upset you were earlier.” It was Max. Max came over and sat right next to him on the bed. “I wanted to make sure my favorite boy was alright,” Max said in a whisper, a whisper that for some reason sent a chill down his spine._

_“I’m fine,” Cartman said with as much attitude as he could, hoping Max would stop acting weird. Of course he did the opposite._

_“I know you are, you’re such a strong boy Eric,” Max said, placing both his hands on Cartman’s shoulders and he immediately tensed at the contact. “Very strong shoulders,” he repeated, this time firmly massaging them. Cartman found that he was frozen, he couldn’t move even though he was highly uncomfortable._

_“Max, stop,” Cartman demanded, but it came out more as a plea._

_“I just wanna make you feel good Eric, don’t you want to feel better?” Max whispered in his ear, his breath freezing the blood in his veins; Max trailed a hand down from his shoulder to his stomach, and then even lower._

_“No! No, go away!” Cartman yelled, pulling away from Max and tried to run for the door, but Max was faster. He grabbed the boy around the waist and flung him on the bed as if he weighed nothing. Max quickly pinned his arms above his head and pressed his knee between his legs._

_“Be a good boy now Eric, we don’t want to wake anyone or they might get hurt and you wouldn’t want that, would you Eric?” It was a threat. A threat that if he yelled for help Max would hurt his mother and sister. Cartman stopped writhing and surrendered to Max, tears forming in his eyes. “Good boy Eric. Now relax and let me make you feel good,” Max whispered releasing one of his hands and returned it the spot in between Cartman’s legs._

_Before Cartman had a chance to close his eyes, he witnessed someone smashing the base of his lamp into the side of Max’s head. “Iris!” Cartman yelled throwing himself in his sister’s arms, clinging to her in absolute fear and gratitude._

_“That hurt you fucking bitch!” Max cursed on the floor, writhing in pain and clutching the bleeding spot on his temple._

_“Eric come on. We’re leaving, hurry now.” They didn’t stop to pack a single thing, there was no time. They just needed to get away from Max. Iris held tight to Cartman’s small hand as they ran out of his room and headed for the stairwell._

_“I’ll make you pay for that you bitch!” They heard Max yell and as Cartman looked back he saw that Max had staggered to his door._

_“Don’t look back Eric,” he heard Iris say, and he obeyed. A big mistake that to this day he regretted. Just as Cartman and Iris reached the top of the stairwell a gunshot rang out._

_He heard Iris cry out in pain, released his hand and fell roughly down the stairs. Time seemed to slow down in that moment for Cartman as he looked down at his sister’s unmoving body, a pool of blood forming underneath her; the sound of the gunshot still ringing in his ears. He only came back to reality when he saw her stir slightly. “Iris!” Cartman yelled and flew down the stairs faster than he ever had before and bent down at her side._

_Cartman was frantic, he had no idea what to do. He should stop the bleeding first right? A rag! He needed a rag! “Eric.” He heard his sister whisper, a whisper that calmed his hysterics. Cartman looked down at his sister, not even trying to hide the tears that were falling down his face. Iris did what she always did, she smiled at him. She reached a bloody hand up and placed it gently on his chubby cheek. “I’m sorry.” And that was the last thing Irisviel said to her brother before her hand fell back to her side and she moved no more._

_“Iris? Iris!” Cartman screamed, thinking maybe if she heard him screaming she would come back. His mourning was short lived for Max yanked Cartman to his feet by the collar of his shirt._

_“We’re not finished kid!” Max roughly said, apparently not caring that he just committed murder. Cartman saw the gun poking out of the top of his pants and reacted on instinct. The younger boy rushed at Max, shoving him to the ground, grabbing a hold of the gun when he did so. Cartman now stood before him holding the gun at the ready; he wasn’t even shaking because pure adrenaline rushed through him. Cartman didn’t even give a chance for Max to stand up before he pulled the trigger. It was a clean shot to the head and Max didn’t move again._

_Cartman dropped the gun, dropped back down to his knees and returned to his deceased sister. “What is going on down here?” He vaguely heard his mother say at the top of the stairs. “Max!” Liane Cartman ran down the stairs and scooped up the dead Jew in her arms and cradled him as if losing a soul mate. Cartman looked on in horror and disgust that she chose a monster like him over her daughter, her daughter that was now dead. From that moment on he vowed he would hate his mother._

_Cartman looked down at his sister, almost sad that her beautiful black hair was now soaked in her own blood. How could this happen? Why would God allow this to happen? She didn’t deserve this! It was too soon! Too soon! Cartman folded his arms over his sisters chest and cried over her dead body; if his mother wasn’t going to mourn her he damn sure was. He wasn’t about to leave her alone, even if she was dead._

_He cried and cried, wishing more than anything that this was a dream and that Iris would wake him up and they could continue living together. But this wasn’t a dream. His sister was dead. He had a vague recollection of the police and paramedics arriving and didn’t move from her body, even when they asked him to. In fact they had to physically pry him from her corpse. “No! No I won’t leave her!” Cartman cried in heart breaking agony, fighting against one of the paramedics to get back to his sister._

_“Come on son, there’s nothing more you can do. She’s gone.” That made him lose it even more, someone else confirming that his sister was gone. Cartman completely broke._

//

“Cartman…” Kyle whispered in disbelief, fighting back his own tears from the story. He never imagined that Cartman, The Nazi Commandant, went through so much pain. He had gone through so much, too much, especially for a child. Cartman bolted up from his spot on the couch and began to pace with tears in his eyes.

“She said ‘I’m sorry!’ I’m sorry? What was she sorry for? She never did anything wrong! I was the one who always did something wrong! Why would she say that?” Kyle stood up, but kept his distance, knowing Cartman was talking more to himself than him. Perhaps he was saying things that have been on his mind for years and now he could finally say them.

“Cartman--” Kyle started calmly, but Cartman talked right over him. He continued to pace, in a trance like state, one hand in his hair tugging at his brown locks.

“One of the last things I said to her was ‘I hate you’ and I screamed it at her! I told her that I hated her! She died thinking I hated her! I didn’t hate her she was my sister! I loved her!” He continued to rant and yell and Kyle could see that it was getting out of hand and if it didn’t stop Cartman might end up hurting himself. But he knew he wouldn’t listen to him the way he was. So Kyle tried a different approach.

Kyle grabbed Cartman by the cheeks, yanked him forward, and connected their lips. He faintly heard him gasp, but when he didn’t push away, Kyle kept them connected. After a moment he felt Cartman relax against him, even putting his hands on Kyle’s boney waist and pulled him closer. Kyle didn’t retreat, he initiated the kiss after all. He slid his hands from his cheeks to wrap around Cartman’s neck when the kiss deepened between them. He never imagined that kissing him would feel so good, so right. If Kyle ever doubted that there was something between them, all that doubt went out the window in this moment. There was definitely something between them, something powerful and almost magical, and he sure as hell knew Cartman felt it too.

They only broke the kiss because they needed to come up for air, but they remained close, still connected with their arms. Cartman pressed his forehead to Kyle’s and he gave a shaky laugh. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.” Kyle returned his little laugh with one of his own.

“Let it be known that I made the first move.”  
Cartman kissed him again. 

“And I made the second,” Cartman said when he pulled out of the kiss.

“Let’s sit back down,” Kyle suggested with a smile on his rosy face. Cartman nodded, but before moving he gave Kyle another quick peck on his lips.  
They were back on the couch, but this time Cartman was laying down, with his head on Kyle’s lap; he didn’t seem to be bothered by how boney his body was. “Were you arrested?” Kyle asked, wondering what happened next. Cartman nodded into his lap.

“I was, but I told them exactly what happened and the court ruled in self defense. I guess it also helped that I was granted a full pardon by someone higher up.”

“Who?”

“The Führer.” Kyle’s green eyes widened in shock. “Of course back then he wasn’t Führer yet, only Reich Chancellor, but he still had enormous influence. You wanna know the messed up part?” Cartman said with amusement in his tone. “My mother didn’t even attend my sister’s funeral, but The Führer did. Adolf Hitler came to show his condolences to a complete stranger when her own birth mother wouldn’t.” Cartman’s bottom lip trembled and Kyle realized that had clearly been eating away at him for years. “You know, The Führer stayed after the funeral just to talk to me. Do you know what he told me?” Cartman asked him, though Kyle knew it was more rhetorical than anything.

“I can’t begin to imagine.” He really couldn’t when it came to the Führer of Germany, the very reason Kyle was trapped in his place. Cartman looked up at the ceiling with his head still in Kyle’s lap and Kyle noticed something in his eyes--a twinkle, almost like a spark of happiness.

“The Führer himself told me that he was proud of me. My mother never even told me that she was ever proud of me. Iris did, but being the brat I was I never cared because she was just my sister. Wasn’t she supposed to say things like that? But The Führer, a complete stranger, telling me how proud he was of me. He told me how proud he was that I had killed a Jew being so young. Yes I understand now that he was proud of me for the wrong reason, but back then I didn’t care. He was giving me praise, praise that I craved. He also told me that there was a place in his youth where I would fit in perfectly. As soon as I was of age I enlisted, leaving my mother behind. Finally in the regime I felt like I belonged somewhere, like I was finally good at something.” The spark from Cartman’s eyes now disappeared and he looked genuinely upset. “I won’t lie to you Kyle, I wanted to make Jews pay, all of them. Because of what happened that night I hated them all, and my hatred for the Jews seemed to be validated by The Führer’s propaganda.”

Should Kyle really be mad him after everything he learned? Perhaps he should be, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel any anger. While none of this was an excuse for what was going on in the camps and the war, Kyle understood and he sympathized with the Commandant. He lost his sister because of a Jew, a Jew who molested him, and he murdered him all in one night. Wouldn’t that affect anyone? He couldn’t imagine if that soldier had killed Ike earlier. Would Kyle turn down the same path as Cartman?

His mother was a whore who neglected her daughter, spoiled her son, and seemed to care about her “clients” more than her own family. He was bullied for his weight, because he didn’t know who his father was, and because of the scandalous activities his mother partook in every day. Then, the only bit of happiness that he felt was in the army, where he finally felt accepted. But Kyle had to ask himself, was Cartman really happy being a Nazi Commandant? He really didn’t think so.

Kyle brought a hand up to Cartman’s hair and began to stroke it back. “You know Cartman, hearing how you spoke of your sister, hearing what she was like, it was clear she loved you. That being said, I think I know why her last words to you were 'I’m sorry'.” That seemed to break his musings and he looked up at Kyle in bewilderment. He didn’t say anything, he merely looked at Kyle waiting for his answer. “I believe she was apologizing because she knew she would no longer be around to protect you. You said it yourself, Iris always put you first, and now she was no longer able to. She may have thought in that moment she was failing you.” Kyle saw the tears immediately swell up in the Commandant’s eyes. Cartman rolled onto his side facing Kyle, and silently cried into his hip. Kyle naturally allowed this and remained quiet while he had his moment; the whole while he was still petting Cartman’s brown locks.

A while later Cartman’s soft cries stopped and he sat up on the couch, wiping at his eyes. “You know, I could kill you for seeing me cry, Jew boy.” Kyle couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Could you really?” Kyle asked in a teasing manner. Cartman gave a shaky laugh.

“No, I really couldn’t. You mean too much to me.” That made Kyle blush again. For a man who claimed to be filled with so much hate, he sure could say things that made his heart beat fast.

“You too,” Kyle said softly, his gaze avoiding the Commandant. His eyes came upon the tumbler of whiskey on a cart in the corner. “Would you like a drink? I think you’ve earned one,” Kyle said, getting off the couch and walking over to the cart. Luckily there were two glasses left that Cartman hadn’t smashed earlier. He poured two glasses and returned to Cartman’s side on the couch. “Cheers,” he said clinging his glass against Cartman’s, and he noticed he was staring at him for some reason. “What?” Cartman only chuckled and shook his head.

“Nothing Jew.” Even though he didn’t believe him, Kyle let it go and took a sip of the liquid. He was very surprised by the contents.

“This isn’t whiskey.” Cartman was laughing on his side of the couch, almost hysterically.

“No, its not, Jew. God you should have seen your face!” Cartman now wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes.

“Apple juice? Why apple juice?” Kyle asked in wonder. He would have surely thought there would be alcohol in a Villa with Nazis. The change the Commandant made from hysterical laughter, to dead beat seriousness, shook Kyle a bit.

“Not only was my mother a whore, but she was an alcoholic and a drug addict,” Cartman said looking at the liquid in his glass. “My entire life I have tried to avoid turning out like my mother. I vowed I would never drink nor try any type of drug. Apple juice is the closest thing that looks like alcohol so that my comrades think I’m this sophisticated Commandant. No one is actually brave enough to accept a drink from me so no one ever found out it's actually juice. You’re the first Kyle. The first of several things actually,” he said giving Kyle a smile.

“How so?” Kyle asked keeping their eyes locked.

“You were my first kiss Kyle.” Kyle hadn’t expected that admission, but it did make his insides flutter and he had probably the most goofy looking smile on his face.

“You were mine too,” Kyle whispered turning his attention back to the table in front of them. He liked Rebecca, but he never felt the urge to kiss her. Not like Cartman, whose lips constantly called to him the more time they spent together. His eyes came back to the picture of Cartman and Irisviel on the table. In this moment realization hit him like a ton of bricks. “Wait--wait!” Kyle snatched up the picture again and held it very close to his face. “No way!” Kyle snapped his head to Cartman, who sat there with a smirk on his face. “You’re the boy with the blue beanie and yellow poof?!” Kyle asked in raw disbelief, the revelation shocking him to his core.

“I was waiting for you to make that connection. Took you way longer than I thought,” Cartman said with such a smug expression.

“You knew! How long have you known?!” Cartman rubbed his chin and rolled his shoulders.

“Don’t get your britches in a twist Kahl. It’s not like I knew the moment I captured you, I swear. I found out when you told me about how you became a dancer. I put it together from the story you told me. I can understand if you hate me now, I told you I was horrible back then.” But Kyle didn’t hate him, just the opposite. Kyle put down his glass and the picture, and then launched himself at Cartman. His arms found their way around his neck again and he pulled him into a kiss.

Cartman didn’t protest, he dropped his glass seeming un-phased when it shattered on the hardwood floor, and pulled Kyle into his lap, indulging in the kiss. Kyle loved how blissful it felt to kiss Cartman, to have his body pressed so close to his. Kissing him was probably, no, _definitely_ a taboo, but with how right it felt, he didn’t care one single bit.

Kyle was the first to pull away and he smiled staying close to Cartman. “You were the reason I became a dancer. You gave me the drive to go for my dream and because I wanted to prove you wrong, I never gave up on that dream. Do you think it was coincidence that you were the reason I became a dancer, and then dancing brought us together again now?” Cartman gave a mock sneer.

“Oh jesus, you’re not about to lay some fate and destiny crap on me are you?” But they both laughed, and Kyle playfully gave a swat to Cartman’s chest. Kyle wiggled out of Cartman’s grasp and stood up, extending his hand to the Commandant.

“Dance with me. No lesson, no strings, just dance with me.” Cartman didn’t even hesitate to take Kyle’s hand and he pulled him to his feet.

They got into their normal stance, but instead of being an arms length away from Cartman, he stood against him, with his head resting on his shoulder. A smile came to his face when Cartman nuzzled his head into the tops of his red curls. Kyle closed his eyes and started swaying with Cartman. They didn’t need music, they somehow created it together between them, perhaps to their own hearts.

While they slowly swayed in front of the fireplace, wrapped up in each other, Kyle realized something secretly to himself, something that he had never planned to happen in his life. Kyle Broflovski had undeniably fallen in love with this Nazi Commandant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you go! I've had this chapter planned from the beginning and it's one I've been looking forward to. I really hope I did it justice and that you guys enjoyed it! Please let me know what you guys think, I love reading your awesome comments.   
> Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments. You guys really are the best! 
> 
> I do post progress updates on my tumblr if you'd like to follow me there.  
> 'akashakushrenada'  
> Drop me an ask if you'd like. I really do love talking to yall!


	17. Chapter 17

_//“I’m starting with the man in the mirror, I’m asking him to change his ways”//_

“Tweek, when did you realize you were in love with Craig?” Kyle asked his best friend from their corner of the barracks. The other prisoners avoided Kyle and Tweek as much as possible. They had come to be known around the camp as “the freak” and “the Commandant’s tool--”. According to the prisoners, they were both living trouble. Kyle couldn’t complain, he was thankful for his late night, _private_ conversations with Tweek, especially having this conversation. Kyle had told himself that he had fallen in love with the Commandant, but he wanted to talk to Tweek about it because he was certain this was no fleeting crush.

“Gah! Kyle, I don’t remember the exact time or day,” Tweek said, tugging slightly at his hair. Kyle smiled and gently grabbed his hands to pull them away from his mess of blonde.

“Tweek, I don’t mean the exact date or hour. I mean how did you know, what did you feel?” Tweek squeezed Kyle’s hands as his mouth formed a silent “oh” and he blushed. Tweek pulled his hands back into his lap and fiddled with his thumbs, perhaps thinking of how to word what he wanted to say.

“I can’t say that it was just one thing that made me realize but several,” Tweek told him quietly. “Craig and I had been friends for years as you know, but it came to a point where we weren’t exactly acting like friends. There were times when we walked together that we would hold hands, even sitting on the couch our hands would find each other. We even started falling asleep together in the same bed, holding each other. Everything just happened so natural between us and neither of us questioned it, we both just let it happen. I remember feeling like my heart would explode every time he hugged me or searched for my hand.” Tweek turned his right hand palm up and used his left fingers to trace the lines in his hand. “One summer it was too hot to hold each other in bed, so instead we held hands at our sides all night,” Tweek said with a smile of pride, as if recalling the moment was a tender memory for him. “One morning I woke up and I looked over at Craig and my heart just started beating really fast. Believe me Kyle I wasn’t having an attack, this was different. I wanted to kiss him and I guess that was when I realized that the both of us had possibly become something more than friends, probably for a while. But I was too scared to kiss him because I what if he didn’t feel the same and was repulsed by me. I’d lose a best friend and that would kill more than rejection.” Tweek rubbed the back of his neck, and Kyle could see his blush even in the moonlit room. “It’s just something I knew in my heart, the heart wants what the heart wants you know.”

Kyle listened to every word, smiling the whole while because it really was touching to see how happy the memories made Tweek. Kyle used to believe not too long ago that love brought pain and heartache, but the more time he spent with the Commandant, and speaking with Tweek about Craig, he was coming to realize it could be a beautiful thing. He was learning that love had its ups and downs, but being truly in love was a wonderful feeling. He assessed Tweek’s story and compared it to his interactions with the Commandant and they weren’t far off at all. Their hands would find each other, he welcomed any embrace between them, and kissing him just felt like the most natural thing in the world. Yes, Kyle was in love and it wasn’t painful.

“Kyle, are you in love with Cartman?” Tweek whispered so soft that Kyle just barely heard him. Color rushed to his pale cheeks and his instincts told him to deny it, but this was Tweek and Kyle knew he would see through any excuse he gave him. So after several seconds of gaining his composure back he told Tweek the truth.

“Yes...yes, I am. You must think I’ve completely lost it, huh Tweek.” Tweek scrunched his eyes up as if he was thinking really hard.

“Well Kyle, if you want me to be honest...”  
Kyle wasn’t exactly sure he wanted him to be honest. Was he about to lose his best friend? Kyle waited on bated breath for Tweek’s answer. “I always thought there was more to Cartman than he was letting on. He was always a jerk face, but I felt like he was trying to mask something inside him. Some people hide their pain by being overly happy, but I felt like Cartman was being overly cruel.” Kyle just stared at his friend in shock, his mouth slightly open. Tweek had no idea just how right he was. “Cartman’s anger only got worse when he lost his sister, I assume he told you about her.” Kyle nodded and Tweek continued. “I don’t know how it happened or why, and I’m not about to ask, but the fact that he opened up to you means something. I never really spent any time with Cartman, not like you have these few months.” Tweek wrapped his pinky around Kyle. “Kyle, you gave me a chance the first night we met even though the rest of the camp hated me and called me a freak. You saw past my “freaky” exterior and got to know the real me. If anyone could see past Cartman’s shit it’s you. If you say you love him then I trust that you see something no one else can, and I trust you. And I never thought I’d meet anyone who could deal with Cartman’s shit, so kudos to you Kyle.” Tweek and Kyle both shared a soft giggle at this. Cartman and Kyle both were a spitfire of their own, but they also seemed to balance each other out and Kyle felt like they both needed that.

“Thanks Tweek,” Kyle said squeezing Tweek’s pinky. He was really thankful Tweek did not resent him or judge him; deep down he knew he wouldn’t.

“But if he breaks your heart, I’ll break his face.” The two laughed again and Kyle brought their pinkies up to eye level.

“Deal.”

//

Cartman awoke, not from his alarm, but because of a smell, a smell he couldn’t place but whatever that smell was it was foul as can be. “That asshole Clyde probably let some food rot,” Cartman grumbled burying his nose in his pillow in hopes of not getting whiffs of the smell, and to go back to sleep. Unfortunately his alarm went off not too long after and he had no choice but to get up for the day.

“Clyde, is there rotten food in the fridge?” Cartman asked, bitterly sitting down at the table to nurse a mug of coffee that was waiting for him. Sabrina hopped up on the table to demand attention from the Commandant and he was happy to oblige while he waited for breakfast.

“No sir. You hate leftovers so there never are any,” Clyde said popping his head out from the kitchen to tell him and then he returned to his duties.  
When the Commandant had his fill and was ready for another day in the camp, he opened the door to leave the Villa and the smell hit him full force, so strong it almost made him sick. That smell was coming from outside, in the camp! What the hell was it? It smelled rotten, like something was decaying in the hot summer sun even though it was the middle of winter. Cartman didn’t want to breathe but he knew he had to do his job and oversee the camp.

When he entered the camp in time for roll call he noticed something he never had before. The prisoners clothes hung off of them as if they were three sizes too big, their faces were all shrunken in so every bone in their face was prominent and they all looked like death walking. _Had they always been so skinny? All of them? Did Kyle look like this too?_ If he had why had he never noticed? And if Cartman were being honest with himself he was afraid to look at Kyle now. Did the prisoners look like this because of the camp? And if that was true, then this was all his fault. Cartman shook his head to get his thoughts in order. He couldn’t think about this now, he had a camp to run.

Towards the middle of the day Cartman started to feel sick and he blamed it on Clyde’s half baked cooking; Gerald was a much better cook and he made a note to have him cook his meals from now on. For some reason the more he saw around the camp, the more sick he became. So many of the prisoners worked like they were at death's door, with hopelessness in their eyes.

 _But that’s what you wanted Eric._  
Was that what he wanted? It was! It shouldn’t be bothering him now, dammit!

Cartman was a witness to several prisoners falling in the snow and they didn’t get back up. It was only when his soldiers were dragging them away did he realize they were dead. Bile rose up in his throat when they dragged the corpses past him, their fingers and hands were black from frostbite. Not only did he notice the frost bite, but the smell, the smell was the same as his camp and he was finally able to pinpoint it. Death. His camp smelled of decay and death. How many prisoners had died in his camp?

 _But that’s what you wanted, wasn’t it, Eric? For them to all die._  
No! He wanted them to suffer, to pay for the crime of being Jews. Death was too good for them, they deserved to suffer, not to die.

 _But yet you looked the other way when they died didn’t you? You’ve even killed your fair share. You didn’t care Eric._  
He didn’t. He didn’t care, so why did he suddenly care now? Why all of a sudden did he see all of this as if he had new eyes? Why was he suddenly smelling and seeing death before him? Why did it feel like the sight of the camps insides were ripping him apart? This didn’t make sense!

He was broken from his inner turmoil by a scream and instinct had him running to follow it. When he came to a stop he saw a prisoner beaten to a pulp in the fetal position in the snow, blood coated his face and by the way he was holding his stomach he was probably kicked several times there by the soldier standing over him. The soldier looked animalistic, almost like a wolf moving in the for the kill. It was that moment that Cartman saw himself in that soldier. That was who he was, that was how everyone viewed him and he made the revelation that was no longer what he wanted. Not even from Jews.

The soldier grabbed his pistol from his belt and aimed it at the beaten man in the snow. “No!” Cartman shouted, his legs moving faster than his brain and knocked the soldier in the side causing him to fall in the snow.

“You poor excuse for a soldier! How many times do I have to say it?! Punishments and executions are to be ordered and carried about by the Commandant only! Get out of here you insolent piece of shit!” Cartman was in hysterics, more angry than he felt in a long time. The soldier scrambled to his feet and heiled him.

“I’m sorry I disobeyed orders sir.” And the rabid wolf ran off with its tail between his legs. Cartman glared after him, but then turned back to the battered man in the snow. He was overcome with the need to help the man, and although he didn’t understand why, he followed the voice telling him to help him.

“Are you alright?” Cartman asked softly, dropping to his knees in the snow. When he placed his hand on the man’s shaking shoulder he sat up and backed away, fear blazing from his bleeding eyes.

“Stay away from me!” The man screamed in pure terror. Cartman stood and took a step towards the man slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal.

“I just want to help.” And he did. That was the truth. He genuinely wanted to help the man, but the man-now trembling-back further away from him.

“You’re a liar! You’re a monster! All of you people are the devil! I may be bleeding, but how much blood is on your hands Commandant?!” Cartman froze in his step, his pupils shrinking, and his stomach dropped. Cartman slowly brought his hands up to his face and terror set in. They _were_ covered in blood! Cartman turned and ran, he vaguely heard his name being called from behind him.

//

His body was on fire, that’s what snapped him awake in bed and he was breathing heavily. “Sir, try to calm down before you give yourself a panic attack.” It was Gerald, sitting in a chair at his bedside.

“Mr. Broflovski? What happened?” Cartman asked in confusion after he calmed himself down. “I feel like shit.” Gerald chuckled.

“You look like shit.” Cartman snapped a glare at him. 

“Ay!” Gerald shook his head and eased Cartman back down in bed.

“You’re not well, sir, and you’re running a fever. You passed out on me when you came back to the Villa, you came back just before evening roll call. Clyde and I brought you to bed and I’ve been watching over you ever since. You’ve been sweating and you lost your breakfast a few times,” Gerald informed him, pointing to a sick pan beside the bed. It wasn’t full so Cartman had to assume Gerald kept it empty and clean.

“I still feel hot,” Cartman said taking a few deep breaths. Gerald grabbed the wash cloth that had fallen in Cartman’s lap when he bolted up, and took it to the bathroom to rinse it with cool water. He came back and placed it on Cartman’s forehead.

“If I may speak freely sir?” Cartman didn’t even think twice before he answered.

“You may.”

“I don’t think you’re actually sick sir.” That struck a nerve for Cartman.

“You said yourself I’m sick! Hello, fever and throwing up not ringing a bell in that Jew head of yours?” Gerald shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Sir, I said you are not well, I didn’t say sick.” Cartman made a face of annoyance.

“Okay _Dr._ Broflovski, if you’re so smart what is wrong with me?”

“When you came back to the Villa you were talking to yourself and you looked almost--lost.” Gerald hung his head, as if he may have actually been worried about Cartman. Cartman looked away from him and bit his lip wondering what he could have possibly said because he couldn’t remember a single thing after he ran from the battered man in the snow. “You were saying _I don’t want this, I don’t want to be a monster, I want to change. I want to change._ ” Hearing this made Cartman blush and he rolled over on his side facing away from Gerald. Did he really say all of that? And in front Gerald no less! “Sir I think you need to talk to me before I can tell you what I believe is wrong. What happened today sir?”

Cartman debated whether or not to tell Gerald anything at all. But what won out was thinking about Kyle. This was his father and he had to show that he could trust Gerald too. Cartman sighed and rolled back onto his back and sat up, the rag falling in his lap again. Gerald picked it up and put it on the back of Cartman’s neck so it would still have the same effect.

Cartman took a breath and then told Gerald everything. Smelling the camp for the first time, seeing the result of malnutrition from the prisoners, the fact that the prisoners death now bothered him, and even him saving the beaten man and how he reacted from it. “So what is your diagnosis, oh great _Dr._ Broflovski?” Cartman asked when he was done informing Gerald. Gerald cleared his throat.

“Be honest with me sir, are you in love with my son?” Cartman went on the defensive and was thankful his face was already flushed from the fever.

“What does that have to do with anything” Cartman snapped.

“Because I feel it has to do with everything. When someone falls in love, they tend to see things in a new light. When we truly love someone we tend to want to be the best we can be for that person. If you love my son, you may be having a battle inside yourself to be a better man for him. You may not even realize it, but I believe your heart is telling you change so you’re seeing everything new. You’re seeing the results of your sins in the camp, sins you would not have ever been able to see if you didn’t truly love him and want to be better for him. Your brain is fighting for the Commandant, while your heart is fighting for Eric and it’s affecting you mentally and physically. You should ask yourself, who do you want to be? The Commandant, or Eric?”

Cartman was silent, absorbing everything Gerald said like a sponge. It all made sense to him, he wasn’t a stranger to internal warfare, he had been through it ever since he lost his sister. But love was definitely new to him when mixed with the pull inside him. Gerald was right, he did want to be a better person for Kyle. He wanted to make him happy, to see him smile, never see the hope drain from his eyes. Something that when they first met he wanted to extinguish at all costs. _How things have changed._ While he knew he wanted to change, he didn’t realize it would affect him to where it would change his views on the camp. Could he really fight the Commandant? For Kyle? Or because Kyle helped him to see it isn’t what he truly needed to be happy? What he needed was Kyle.

“Maybe,” Cartman said after a long silence between them.

“Maybe what sir?” Cartman fisted his bed sheets and his face flushed even more. 

“Maybe I do love him.” Gerald stood from his chair and gave Cartman’s shoulder a firm squeeze.

“The next step is to tell _him._ Get some rest sir, if Kyle shows up I’ll explain to him that you aren’t feeling well.” Gerald wanted him to tell Kyle that he was in love with him? Did that mean that he accepted it? Cartman had no idea what gods were blessing him in this moment but he was thankful.

“Thank you Mr. Broflovski,” Cartman said, lying back down in his bed. He definitely wasn’t ready to face Kyle tonight, not with how he was feeling. Gerald rewet his rag and replaced it on his forehead. “Mr. Broflovski, what can I do for Kyle to make him happy?” Gerald was heading for the door and he stopped, turned back and answered him.

“Baby steps sir. Hanukkah is coming up, just wish him a Happy Hanukkah. It would mean a lot to him.” And with that Gerald left. Hanukkah was definitely forbidden, but then again so was his love for Kyle.

//

 _December 10th, 1944_  
Cartman kept the door to his music room locked all day, and only he had the key to the room. He made sure to make it clear to those in the Villa that the room was strictly off limits. What he had planned was a definite death sentence should anyone find out and he wasn’t quite ready to see Iris again.

That night he had a dance lesson, they both knew Cartman was ready for the party, but the lessons were just an excuse to see Kyle; Craig’s lessons ended last month, apparently he was a very fast learner. Kyle met him in the living room after his shower like he always did and seeing him just brought a natural smile to Cartman’s face, but his smile faltered when he realized Kyle was just as skinny as the other prisoners. There was a sting in his chest but he had to press it down, it wasn’t time to feel guilty.

“Are you feeling better? Papa said you weren’t feeling well when I came last night.” Cartman was touched that Kyle had worried about him. Cartman reached for Kyle’s hand and entwined it with his.

“Just a bug Kyle, I feel fine,” Cartman said stepping closer to Kyle. “I have something to show you, come with me.” But Kyle didn’t move, instead he stood there looking like he was guilty of something. “Is something wrong, Kyle?” Cartman asked out of concern.

“Before we start, I have a request.” Kyle bit his lip as if he was worried to speak his request. Cartman reached his other hand out to caress his cheek to soothe his worry.

“Anything, Kyle.” Kyle closed his eyes and nuzzled into his hand for a moment, but then looked at Cartman with determination in his emerald eyes. 

“Kiss me.”

Cartman’s heart raced at this request. Yes they kissed a few days prior, but Cartman was worried those kisses would be a one time thing, just them being caught up in the moment. That night there were several blissful exchanges between them, with words and lips, but Cartman didn’t want to assume Kyle wanted more just because Cartman sure as hell did.

Cartman’s answer was not with words, but with his lips. The moment he kissed Kyle he heard him inhale in bliss, an action that sent shivers down his spine. That small inhale proved to Cartman that Kyle had wanted to kiss him for a while and practically melted when he had his chance. Never did he ever imagine Cartman would have something like this.

He pulled out of the kiss and smirked at how red Kyle’s face was. Cartman leaned down to whisper in Kyle’s ear. “From now on, Jew, if you want to kiss me, don’t ask, just do it. Is that understood?” He saw Kyle shiver and watched the goosebumps appear on his skin. Was his ear a weakness? He’d had to test that later. For now he pulled away to see an even more flushed Kyle. Oh yes, his ear was definitely a weak spot.

“Y-yes sir.”

Cartman smirked and turned to lead Kyle.  
“Now come on Jew.” He lead him to the door of his music room, pulled out the key from his pocket and unlocked the door. “Close your eyes.” Kyle squinted his eyes at Cartman as if he wasn’t sure so Cartman rolled his eyes. “Just close your eyes Kahl.” And Kyle did so. Cartman led him through the door, closed and locked it behind them.

“Should I be worried you locked the door?” Kyle asked with his eyes still closed.

“You’ll understand why I locked it when you open your eyes,” Cartman said, stepping beside Kyle, needing to see his reaction to his surprise. “You can open them now Kyle.” Kyle did and for a moment his eyes wandered but then settled on what they were meant to. Set up on the grand piano were eight candles lined up horizontally. None of the candles were the same, they were all a different shape and size, but he hoped Kyle wouldn’t take it for face value. “Obviously I don’t have a menorah at my disposal so this was all I could do. I’m sure it sucks ass but—”

“Cartman stop, just stop.” Kyle’s voice cracked and Cartman looked down to see that he was crying. How much did Cartman just fuck up? “You did this? For me?” Kyle asked, his tears flowing down his cheeks.

“I did. Is it that bad?” Kyle suddenly wrapped his arms around Cartman’s waist and embraced him tightly, crying into his neck.

“You can’t begin to imagine what this means to me.” _I didn’t fuck up. Thank god._ Cartman wrapped his arms around his crying Jew and allowed him his moment. After a bit Kyle pulled away and looked back at the makeshift menorah on the piano while wiping away his tears. “Cartman it’s perfect. Thank you so much.” Cartman’s heart raced from Kyle’s gratitude and he walked up to the piano to grab a box of matches.

“I want you to come back every night to light one of the candles. It’ll be our little secret,” he told Kyle with a wink and handed him the matches.

“You’re allowing me to light them?” Kyle asked, more tears forming in his eyes.

“Of course Kahl. I didn’t do this for you to not light them.” Kyle hugged the box of matches to his chest and gave Cartman a watery smile.

“Thank you.” Cartman assumed this was just a small gesture on his part, but Kyle made him feel like he gave him the whole world on a silver platter.

“Go ahead and light the first candle Kyle,” Cartman said making his way over to sit at the piano. Kyle stood where he was for a few moments, as if not believing all of this was real. When he seemed satisfied that it was, he walked up to the piano, struck a match and then lit the first candle on the left. When it was lit he just stared at the flame, as if it was some other worldly being; and he still could not stop crying. The tears did not bother Cartman, they just proved how important this was to Kyle; he knew these were tears of happiness.

Kyle then put his hands together, closed his eyes and lowered his head a bit. It looked like he was saying a silent prayer. When he finished he opened his eyes and just watched the flame. “Usually we’ll blow it out, but I would like to watch it burn for a while. Is that okay?” Cartman nodded even though he wasn’t looking at him.

“You can watch it all night if you want.” Kyle, keeping his eyes on the dancing flame, came over to join Cartman on the piano bench. He found Cartman’s hand at his side, held it, and put it head on his shoulder. “Happy Hanukkah Kyle.” Kyle sniffled and took in a deep breath.

“Thank you.”

//

 _December 15th, 1944_  
Each night Kyle returned to the music room to light a candle from Cartman’s makeshift menorah. When he would light one, he would pray silently and then just watch the candle burn for what seemed like hours; most times it was but Cartman never complained. Kyle was happy and that’s what mattered to him.

It was the fifth night and they were sitting together on a loveseat; Cartman had moved it in the music room the second day since they would be spending most of their nights in the music room now. Kyle sat with both legs draped over Cartman’s lap and he was snuggled up against his chest; they were both wrapped up in a blanket watching the fifth candle burn. “Why me?” Kyle suddenly asked out of nowhere. Cartman picked his head up from its place atop Kyle’s head and looked at him.

“Pretty vague Kahl. Care to elaborate?” Kyle snuggled into him more but kept his eyes on the burning candle.

“From my first day at the camp you never left me alone and watched me constantly. Why me and no other prisoner?” Cartman didn’t expect the question, but the answer was easy. He returned his cheek to rest in Kyle’s curls.

“Because from the very first time we met you weren’t afraid of me. Ever since Irisviel died I made it my business to have people be afraid of me. I used fear to control and manipulate people. There was nothing I could do to help Iris that night, so after that I wanted to feel strong and powerful. To me, fear was power. But as the years went on I realized that having everyone fear me brought me absolutely no satisfaction, but I still had a reputation to uphold.” While Cartman spoke he rubbed Kyle’s boney thigh under the blanket they shared. “That day we met in the barn you had so much fire in your eyes and after that no matter what I did that fire never once wavered.” Kyle gave a small chuckle.

“It almost did the day you had Tweek whipped. I was scared I was gonna lose him.” Cartman’s hand stopped on his thigh and he made a fist.

“I wasn’t myself that day, Kyle.” Kyle started his own ministrations on Cartman’s stomach.

“I know you weren’t, Cartman. There was something different about you that day and I will admit that it frightened me. Not because I was afraid of you, I wasn’t, but I was worried you had finally lost yourself and I wouldn’t see that strong man I had come to love pissing off.” They both shared a laugh and then Cartman spoke again.

“That day was the day Irisviel was killed. Usually I’m just depressed that day, but the Führer had sent me a vase of iris blossoms and it just sent me in a rage. I do regret everything I did that day, including what I did to Tweek. If you would like, you may tell him how sorry I am. I genuinely am.” Kyle wrapped his arms around Cartman’s middle and squeezed.

“You can tell him yourself when this war is over.” Who knew when this war would end, but Cartman no longer cared about this war. This war was preventing him from being with Kyle fully and he cursed it.

“I will.”

“Now you were saying you were drawn to my hot smoking eyes?” Again they laughed and Cartman shook his head against Kyle’s.

“Stupid Jew. But yes, the fire in your eyes intrigued me. At first, I can’t lie, I wanted to break you, to snuff out that fire in your eyes. But the more you fought me, the more intrigued I became. I started testing you, challenging you, and it seemed the fire only grew in your eyes. The more time we spent together because of our lessons, I realized I was attracted to that passion in your eyes. The fact that you were not afraid of me went from annoyance, to admiration. When I realized I actually embraced the fact that you didn’t fear me, my feelings for you only grew. Does that answer your question?” Kyle nodded into his shoulder.

“It does. Thank you for confiding in me. I have another question.”

Cartman smirked. “Of course you do Kahl.” Kyle rolled his eyes, but smiled watching the candle burn.

“Hey, think of answering these questions as a Hanukkah present,” he said with a giggle in his tone. “Our first dance lesson, we pulled apart from each other and at the time I just accused you of hating to touch me. But learning you were intrigued by me, was there another reason?”

“There was. The moment we touched I didn’t expect you to be so warm,” Cartman said, a blush forming on his cheeks. “For years whenever I touched anyone, hand shakes or what not, everyone just felt cold to me. I didn’t know if it was me or them, but everyone just felt cold. You were the first person who felt warm and your warmth soothed me.”

“I pulled away for almost the same reason. I knew you as the evil Nazi Commandant, and I did hate you back then. I expected you to feel ice cold, but you weren’t. You too, were very warm, and still warm,” Kyle said nuzzling into his chubby body with a sigh of content.

“Now it’s my turn for a question, Jew. Since we’re talking about that night, you decided to cut the lesson short and ran out. Wanna tell me why?” Kyle didn’t take any time before he responded.

“Not only was I shocked that you were incredibly warm, but I felt something else I never felt in all my years as a dancer. I had danced with a lot of different dancers since I was eight, but I never once felt a connection with any of them. But with you Cartman,” Kyle found Cartman’s hand under the blanket and laced them together. “I felt like we just fit together, like we were meant to dance together. I guess I should have realized then that was a precursor to my developing feelings for you. How gay does that sound?” Cartman chuckled, brought his finger up under Kyle’s chin and tilted it up.

“Super gay.” And he kissed him. Cartman understood exactly what Kyle meant because he felt it too. Being with Kyle, dancing with him, touching him, embracing him, kissing him, everything felt right and that they were meant to be together. But how would the world outside the Villa allow this? Was this just an impossible dream? If it was, Cartman would gladly dream forever.

//

 _December 16th, 1944_  
They both sat on the piano bench together, Cartman was playing “Moonlight Sonata” while Kyle watched the sixth candle burn. “You know what would be a great Hanukkah present?” Kyle asked not taking his eyes off the flame. Cartman smirked but continued to play.

“I couldn’t begin to guess.” Not realistically anyway because everything he wanted seemed impossible as long as this was war was going on. Kyle wrapped his arm through Cartman’s and held his bicep; he was still able to play this way.

“It would be a great present if you told me your name,” Kyle said this with a soft purr as if using his charm to convince Cartman to tell him, and he had to admit it almost worked.

“But that would take away from the fun of our game. I actually still can’t believe you haven’t guessed it yet.”

Kyle huffed, removed his arm from Cartman’s, and crossed his arms. “Do you know how many names there are in the world, Cartman? How could I possibly guess?” Cartman couldn’t help but laugh at his ruffled Jew.

“Kyle, if you could see through the monster of the Commandant and melt his icy heart, I’m sure guessing a name will seem like a cake walk.” That seemed to lighten Kyle’s mood for he visibly relaxed his facial expression and gave him a wide smile. Kyle then looked back to the burning candle.

“Adam?”

“Nope.”

“Shot in the dark. Adolf?” Cartman laughed at this.  
“I’m not sure if I’d think that was badass or messed up if that was my name.” Kyle snickered. 

“Both.” Cartman nodded.

“Yeah you’re right, both. One more guess Kahl.” Kyle was quiet for a bit. Cartman imagined him going through a whole book of names and Cartman actually found it cute.

“Theodore?”

“Well I gotta say I’m impressed Kahl.” Kyle snapped his head to the side and gave him a look of excitement.

“I finally guessed right?” Cartman chuckled and bopped him on the nose.

“Close. Theodore is my middle name.” Kyle scrunched up his face, rolled his eyes and looked away back to the candle.

“I’ll consider that a small victory.” Cartman wrapped his arm around Kyle’s shoulders and yanked him against his side.

“Of course Kahl.”

//

 _December 18th, 1944_  
On the eighth night Cartman met Kyle at the door before he could depart for the shower. He wrapped an arm around Kyle and pulled him into a kiss, a kiss that Kyle quickly pulled away from. “Cartman I’m gross! Let me shower first!” Cartman merely smirked.

“If I wanna kiss my filthy Jew, I’m gonna kiss my filthy Jew.” And he kissed Kyle again.

When they pulled away Cartman smiled down at Kyle. “I’m not sure I like that twisted smile of yours. What are you planning?”

“Nothing gets past you, does it, Kahl? I do have something planned.” Cartman took Kyle’s hand and led him down the hall towards the living room. “Tell me Kahl, if you could have one wish what would it be?”

Kyle looked down as if he was naming off a thousand things he wished for inside his head. “Right now, I would wish to see my mother. I haven’t seen her since we came to the camp and were separated.” This pleased Cartman and he smiled proudly.

“You see Kahl, I knew you’d say just that.” Kyle looked at him accusingly.

“Cartman are you playing a joke on me?” Kyle asked reaching the threshold of the living room, eyes on Cartman.

“Kyle!” All of the color drained from Kyle’s face when he heard the voice and tears came to his eyes when he turned his head to see his mother standing in the living room of the villa.

“Mama!” Kyle screamed running into his mother’s open arms and they were both in tears embracing each other. Gerald was already in the room, Cartman allowed them to meet before Kyle came since Gerald was already in the villa. Gerald watched his wife and son embrace with tears of his own.

“Kyle. My bubbalah. I’m so happy to see you. I’ve missed you so much my son,” Sheila cried, her voice cracking. Kyle pulled away only slightly, but kept his forehead on his mother’s and dried her tears with his thumbs.

“Oh Mama I’ve missed you too. I’ve been so worried about you. How? Why are you here?” Sheila looked towards Cartman.

“The Commandant brought me here. He told me I could see my babies tonight.” The look Kyle gave Cartman was like he was about to throw himself at him and drown him with kisses; which he would not be opposed to.

“Wait, babies?”

Cartman nodded his head. “That’s right Kahl. I sent Craig to pick up your brother too. They should be arriving any minute.” With tears still in his eyes, Kyle approached Cartman and slowly wrapped his arms around his neck. The Commandant was shocked that he did this in front of his family, especially his mother who had no idea about her son and the Commandant of the camp.

“What--what--what?” Sheila exclaimed when she saw Kyle cling to him. Cartman saw Gerald whisper something in his wife’s ear and whatever he said made her calm down and let it go.

When Kyle let him go he looked up at him like nothing in the world could ever make him sad again. “Why did you do this?” Cartman took both Kyle’s hands in his and held them to his chest.

“It’s the last night of Hanukkah and I wanted you to spend it with your family.” Cartman reached into his pocket and slid the key to his music room into Kyle’s hand. “Light the last candle with them, take as long as you need tonight but your mother and brother will have to return before dawn.” Cartman leaned down to kiss Kyle on the cheek, but it seemed Kyle didn’t want that. Kyle turned his head quickly, grabbed Cartman’s cheeks and kissed him on the mouth. Despite his family being in the same room, he surrendered to Kyle’s kiss; he assumed he always would.

“Thank you,” Kyle said when he pulled away. Cartman smiled and whispered under his breath.

“Happy Hanukkah Kyle.” Just as he was stepping out of the room Ike and Craig made their appearance. “Took you long enough Lieutenant,” Cartman said to Craig as Ike joined the reunion with his family in the living room.

“I only ran your errand for one reason jerkface,” Craig nasally sneered. Cartman looked behind Craig just in time to see Tweek turn down the hall towards Craig’s room.

“Just return him before dawn Lieutenant. Good night.” And with that Cartman retired to his room.

//

Cartman was awoken sometime during the night, maybe early morning-he didn’t check the time-by knocking at his door. Before he could even answer to allow the person entry, the door opened and the person stepped in. Cartman sat up on the edge of his bed, turned on the bedside lamp and saw Kyle leaning against his bedroom door. “My mother and Ike left and my father went to bed,” Kyle told him softly.

“Were you able to say what you needed to?” It felt strange to ask him if they had a good time, under the circumstances. Kyle nodded and approached Cartman.

“I did. We talked for a long time, I think the only time we were quiet was when we lit the last candle.” Cartman wrapped his arms around Kyle and nuzzled his head in his abdomen.

“I assume you told your mother about us?” It was that moment that Cartman had to wonder: what were they? It was obvious they cared about each other since they kiss and share embraces. Did they have a label? Did they even need a label? Cartman didn’t think so. Cartman knew one thing for sure, _he belonged to Kyle._

“I did. Of course she was shocked at first, who wouldn’t be. But after everything I told her that you did for me and my family while at the camp she accepted you, accepted us,” Kyle said draping his arms over Cartman’s shoulders and hugged him while standing. So Kyle did consider them _something._ That made Cartman very happy.

“Stay with me tonight Kyle.” It was a request, not an order. He wanted to spend at least one night with Kyle, holding him all night.

“On one condition,” Kyle said removing his arms from Cartman.

“And what would that be?” Cartman asked looking up at him from his stomach. Kyle gently pushed Cartman down on the bed and he crawled up to straddle him.

“Make me yours tonight.” Before his brain could register what Kyle meant, his body however did. Desire pooled in his belly and shot straight to his groin.

“Kyle do you know what you’re asking? Are you sure?” Cartman asked nervously, a blush appearing on his cheeks.

“I’m sure. I want it to be you.” Cartman in his wildest dreams never did he ever think he would hear those words from anyone. But hearing them from Kyle, the one he cared about and wanted most, filled him with overwhelming passion and desire.

In one swift movement Cartman wrapped his arm around Kyle and quickly rolled him over to where he was over him. “You’ll be my first Kyle,” Cartman admitted, worried he’d make a fool of himself. But Kyle didn’t laugh at him like anyone else would have, instead he smiled and caressed Cartman’s cheek with his boney hand.

“You’ll be my first too. We can learn together.” Cartman had fucked up his entire life, committed sin after sin, so what he did to deserve Kyle, his beautiful perfect Kyle, he may never know. But he thanked whatever god that blessed him with his Jew.

“Together.”

//

Cartman lay awake in bed with Kyle’s arm draped across his stomach and his head upon his chest. They were both naked, skin to skin, a feeling that felt electric and magical. Cartman rubbed his hands over Kyle’s curls while he slept on him; they were both covered in sweat despite the freezing cold outside. He may not be able to say it aloud, yet, but Cartman was in love with Kyle and he knew he proved it to Kyle tonight in this bed. Cartman had discovered so many new sounds from Kyle, sounds that excited him. Hearing and seeing Kyle writhe beneath him and come undone because of him was more satisfying than any drug in the world.

After making love to Kyle, laying naked with him, he felt complete, he felt whole. As if he spent his life searching for something and he finally found it  
Cartman may not know what was to come, especially with the war, but he knew that his place was with Kyle. He knew that when dawn came he would have to return to being the Commandant, and Kyle would have to be his prisoner again. But for now he was Eric, holding his lover while he slept at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines Day you guys!! I wish I could hug every one of you. ^_^  
> I can't tell you how the massive amount of positive reviews for my last chapter meant to me. Reading your comments really keeps me motivated to keep going. I can't thank you all enough.   
> This chapter hit me in the feels to write and I hope it hits yours to read! Let me know what you guys think.  
> In case anyone thinks about it, at the beginning of the chapter you'll notice Tweek is no longer stuttering. That is because he is comfortable enough around Kyle now.


	18. Chapter 18

_||“We carry on through this storm, tired soldiers in this war. Remember what we’re fighting for”||_

“Cartman, you know Christmas is tomorrow don’t you?” Kyle asked the Commandant as he sat with his knees against his chest in the love seat. Cartman stopped ruffling through a stack of sheet music he had in his lap while he sat at his piano.

“What’s your point? Jews don’t celebrate Christmas,” Cartman said with a bit of attitude behind his words. Kyle simply rolled his eyes and looked out the frosted window on the far side of the room.

“I know that, fatass, but don’t you? I mean aren’t you going to?” Even though Kyle was looking away from him, Cartman still glared at him for a few moments before going back to flipping through the sheet music.

“No,” was all Cartman said, expecting that to be the last of the conversation. But this was Kyle, and he should have expected the ‘why’ that followed his simple ‘no’. “Kyle, when it comes right down to it what is Christmas about? What is every holiday really about?” Kyle looked down at his knees, the answer was simple for him, but would it be the same for Cartman?

“Family.” Cartman nodded and tapped his temple twice with his index finger.

“Which I don’t have, ergo I don’t celebrate Christmas.” Cartman finally found the piece of music he had been looking for. He put it on the top of the stack, straightened the sheets, and then placed them on the music rack. “I hate Christmas.” And then Cartman started to play. Kyle had requested the piece earlier when Cartman offered to play for him-Nocturne Opus 9, No 2. Even though Kyle requested the music, he couldn’t concentrate on it at all. He knew he had struck a nerve with Cartman, triggered him into remembering something from his past.

Kyle stood from the love seat, approached Cartman from behind and draped his arms down over his shoulders to lightly hug him. “Talk to me.” He didn’t ask this, nor did he demand it, he simply meant if Cartman wanted to talk, he was here and he would listen. The music stopped, but Cartman didn’t say anything, not for a few moments; perhaps he was getting his thoughts in order.

“Kyle, I told you I was a horrible kid, but around Christmas time my spoiled, bitchy level was at the max. I made sure my mother got me everything on my Christmas list and if she didn’t get it I would throw a tantrum.” Kyle smiled weakly nuzzling his cheek against Cartman’s temple. He wasn’t exactly surprised by this information, since Cartman had previously explained he was a spoiled kid. Cartman continued. “One Christmas I wanted this new toy train that came out, all the boys my age had one expect me. My mother got the wrong train and then Irisviel told me she had gotten me a present; she had never gotten me a Christmas present before. I was excited, I expected the train, but it wasn’t. She had gotten me a stuffed panda she had named Peter and said he could be friends with my Clyde Frog.” Kyle hugged Cartman even tighter from behind. He had a feeling he knew what was coming next, but he wanted Cartman to know he wasn’t going anywhere and would hear him out. “I yelled at Irisviel. I called her useless because she couldn’t get me what I wanted and I threw the panda back at her.” Cartman then let out a small laugh. “Do you know what she did in response to that?” Cartman laughed again. “She smiled. She fucking smiled and said _I’m sorry I let you down._ Her own brother just called her useless and yelled at her, and there she was smiling and apologizing to me!” Cartman was getting riled up, his breathing had increased and Kyle knew he needed to calm down before he gave himself a panic attack.

Kyle began to rub Cartman’s chest gently, as if wanting to massage his troubles away. Cartman inhaled through his nose at his touch and then leaned his head back on Kyle’s shoulder. Kyle continued to rub his chest while Cartman was calming down and he remained quiet. When his breathing became normal, Cartman spoke again. “I learned a little later that she had picked up an extra job just so she could get me _something_ for Christmas. And I also found out from a classmate that the train I wanted was sold out _before_ the Christmas holiday. So I yelled at her for something that was totally out of her control, yet she still got me a gift.” Cartman paused for a moment, then let out a shaky breath. “That was our last Christmas together before Irisviel was killed.” Kyle didn’t respond to this, he knew Cartman didn’t want to be pitied and he never would pity him. Kyle just wanted to listen and understand Cartman and through every story he understood him more and more.

Minutes past in silence until Kyle’s eyes drifted to the makeshift menorah Cartman had set up for Hanukkah and he got an idea. Kyle released the Commandant and sat next to him at the piano. “I’m not asking you to celebrate it, but I would like you to do something tomorrow.” Cartman gave Kyle a sideways glance, maybe it was a glare-he couldn’t tell.

“What would that be Jew?” Kyle reached down to hold Cartman’s hand.

“Will you say a prayer, for Irisviel?” The look of surprise was instant on Cartman’s face.

“Say a prayer? I’ve never once in my life prayed about anything. I don’t think I even know how to pray,” Cartman said with what Kyle sensed was fear. _Is he scared to pray?_ Kyle squeezed his hand and laid his head on his shoulder.

“I’ll help you.” Cartman smiled and kissed his red curls.

“Okay Kyle, for you.” But Kyle shook his head.

“For Irisviel.”

//

Christmas night, Cartman and Kyle were back in the music room; Cartman was as antsy as could be. Even though he said he would do this, he was actually pretty scared. He didn’t know how to pray, he didn’t understand how any of it worked, and if he were being honest he really wasn’t religious at all. Should he really be praying? Did he have the right to? Deep down he felt like he had absolutely no right to pray. “So how do I do this Jew?” Cartman asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

“I would like to say one first, if that’s okay.” Cartman shrugged with a nod. This way he could watch and get an idea of what to do and say. Kyle thanked him and then turned to a candle that was on the piano. He lit the candle, closed his eyes, held his hands together, and started his prayer. “Irisviel.” Cartman’s heart sank all the way down to his stomach. He didn’t realize Kyle would be praying to Iris, to his sister! What in the world did he have to say to her? “I want to thank you. Thank you for loving your brother unconditionally, even when he was being an ass. I know first hand how much of an ass he can be.” Cartman snickered beside him because he knew he deserved it, but remained quiet so he could hear Kyle’s prayer. “I also thank you for always looking out for him, and for protecting him.” Cartman was now blushing, he was both embarrassed and moved by what Kyle was saying.

“Now I must ask that you continue to watch over him during this time. Please guide him through this war to the very end.” Cartman understood the meaning behind this without Kyle having to say it. In other words, let him survive this war. “You loved your brother back then Irisviel, but I want you to know that he has someone who loves him now.” Cartman was sure his heart stopped, hell he was sure the whole world had stopped in this very moment. Not only had Kyle admitted aloud that he loved him, but he said it in a prayer to his sister as if she were in the same room. Kyle could never really know what that meant to Cartman. Kyle loved him! This Jew, the one whom he tortured and tried so hard to break, was in love with him!

Cartman was brought back to the here and now when Kyle took his hand and was now looking straight into his eyes. “I love him Irisviel, monster and all.” Cartman didn’t even try to fight the water that formed in his eyes at Kyle’s words. He wanted Kyle to see the impact those words had on him, him-the Commandant of a concentration camp; proof that this mere Jew was his undoing and he would never again fight it.

“Kyle.” Cartman yanked Kyle against him and kissed him deeply. He was in love with Kyle yes, had been for some time, but he wasn’t yet able to say the words himself; he had so much respect for Kyle saying them first. Kyle had always been so brave since they first met. He hoped through this kiss that Kyle understood that he returned his love, even if he was not yet ready to say it. Though he had to admit that deep down he was worried that he would disappoint Kyle by not saying he loved him back.

When they pulled away, the smile on Kyle’s face proved to Cartman that he wasn’t disappointed and that it was okay. Kyle would wait for him, he’d expect nothing less from his Jew. “Your turn Cartman,” Kyle said handing the lighter to Cartman so he could light a candle.

When he took the lighter he found that his hand was shaking. A prayer for Irisviel. What would he say? If he were to apologize to her, would she accept his apology? Would she even listen to him wherever she was in the afterlife? Did he even have the right to say a prayer to his sister? He was horrible to her after all.

Cartman took a breath to control his emotions and then lit another candle. He held his hands together and closed his eyes as Kyle did. “Iris,” he started but found he was unable to continue. “I’m sorry Kyle, I can’t do this.” Cartman blew out the candle he had lit and tensed when he felt Kyle’s hand against his back. Before Kyle could say anything, Cartman spoke. “It’s not that I’m afraid, it’s because I have no right to say anything to her.”

“Cartman-”

“Let me finish Kyle, please,” Cartman calmly said, walking away from Kyle to look out the window at the camp below them. “Where I am now, the way I am now,” he said then looking down at his uniform. “Until this uniform comes off, I will not ask for forgiveness.” The fact of the matter was that Cartman didn’t want his first time speaking to his sister to be as the Nazi monster he made himself. He wanted to change, because of Kyle, and he wanted to show her that he could change.  
Cartman felt Kyle’s long arms wrap around his stomach and his head met the nape of his neck. 

“After the war?” Kyle whispered softly and Cartman nodded.

“After the war.”

//

“You remember the steps right?” Kyle asked Cartman for the third time tonight while he was getting ready for the New Years party held by the Führer. Cartman was sitting on the bed putting on his boots.

“Yes Kahl every step, every turn, every lift.” Kyle’s face instantly got red.

“There are no lifts in the Viennese Waltz fatass!” Kyle fumed and Cartman could swear he saw smoke coming from those flaming curls of his. While chuckling, Cartman got up from the bed, bent down slightly to wrap his arms around Kyle’s thighs and lifted him against him.

“There is when you’re the Commandant’s lover Kahl,” he said with a small purr in his throat. Kyle had gasped when he lifted him, but put his hands on Cartman’s shoulders and attempted to glare down at him; it was hard when he was blushing at the same time.

“Smartass.” Kyle then bent his head down and kissed him in the lift. “Okay but you do remember to lead with your right foot?” Cartman rolled his eyes and put Kyle down.

“Ugh for heaven sakes Kahl do you have such little faith in me?” Cartman moaned in annoyance as he continued to go about getting ready.

“No, it’s not that at all, I swear.” Cartman was adjusting his jacket in the mirror so it looked perfect.

“Then what is it Kahl?” He saw Kyle bite his bottom lip behind him through the mirror.

“Do you have to go tonight?” This certainly took Cartman by surprise.

“What are talking about Kyle? Of course I have to go. I’m not letting all this training we did go to waste. Besides this is a party held by the Führer himself! Do you have any idea what might happen if I don’t go?” Kyle looked down with a worried look on his pale face.

“I know that. I just-well it’s just that-” Cartman sighed while he crossed his arms.

“It’s not normal for you to be so twitchy Kahl, spending too much time with the Tweek kid?” Cartman purposely said hoping to get Kyle a little rattled. Judging by the fuming look he gave him, it worked.

“What are you, jealous fatass?” There was his spit fire Jew. Cartman said nothing back to Kyle’s accusing question, because deep down he was right. Cartman was a little jealous that Kyle was so close to Tweek, but he trusted Kyle; besides he knew how much Craig and Tweek loved each other. “Cartman I just have a bad feeling about tonight, like something bad is going to happen.” All the Commandant could do was smile at his Jew-he was worried about him and he felt honored. Cartman approached Kyle closely and took both his hands in his.

“Look at me Kyle.” Kyle did so and Cartman could read all the worry in his emerald hues. “I have to go tonight. I don’t want the Führer himself coming here if I don’t, that could mean trouble for the camp.” Not that his camp wasn’t already trouble. As much as he wished he could change things in his camp, he was realistic. He was the Commandant and if things were to change, for the better in his camp, then he knew word would get back to the Führer and his inner circle and that would put them all in danger. Cartman could even be replaced and someone else could run his camp, someone more sinister than him, or rather, how he used to me. As it stands now, all Cartman could do was inconspicuously save anyone being wronged by his soldiers that were not following his orders; even though at the end of the day he knew all of this was wrong. “There’s something I haven’t told you about this party Kyle.” Kyle’s worried expression turned into that of pure curiosity. “The Führer will be making an important announcement tonight in front of who he believes are his top ranking officers in this war. Whatever this announcement is, it’s crucial to the Führer’s plans in this war. Depending on what it is-” But Kyle stopped him by placing a finger to his lips, he seemed to understand what Cartman was saying.

“Then go, just please be careful.” Cartman took Kyle’s wrist and nuzzled into his hand.

“I will.”

//

“Ugh this party is so boring. Why the hell was I invited anyway?” Craig groaned at Cartman’s side, holding a glass of whiskey that he had yet to sip. Cartman sighed looking down at his own amber liquid and sloshed it around.

“Because you’re my first officer, my number one. You’re just as important as I am in the Führer’s eyes I suppose.” Cartman shrugged not really sure that was the correct answer.

“Could you have just sounded any gayer?” Craig teased with a smirk on his face. Cartman let out an exasperated sigh.

“Alas, my poor redhead is rubbing off on me.” Cartman and Craig shared a soft chuckle together. Craig knew about the relationship he had with Kyle, Cartman knew he wasn’t stupid. But Cartman also knew that Craig would keep quiet because in return for his trust, he gave Craig permission to retrieve Tweek whenever he wished. Craig and Cartman had a mutual understanding of secrecy when it came to the men they loved.

“Speaking of gay, I really wish these girls would stop eyeing us like we’re their prey,” Craig whispered to the Commandant. A little way away from them were a group of young, well dressed, women all wearing the finest jewelry; probably given to them by their rich war daddies. All the girls kept looking at Craig and Cartman, whispering and giggling amongst themselves. Cartman would gladly take a bullet to the foot than dance with any of them.

“It’s your brooding Craig. Didn’t you know that was why most of the girls in school had crushes on you? They seemed to like the “jerk” type,” Cartman deadpanned.

“So by that logic they should be throwing themselves at your feet.” Cartman pinched Craig in the side.

“You’re an asshole.”

The party they were attending took place in the ballroom of the Reich Chancellery and guests were already on the floor dancing the Führer’s favorite waltz. In the back of the room was a stage where a small orchestra was playing score after score. “We’re going to have to dance eventually you know, the Führer keeps eyeing us,” Craig told him. Cartman looked over at the table where the Führer was sitting, surrounded by members of his inner circle. Cartman noticed most of the men of his circle were eyeing the women around the room, whereas a man named Goebbels was eyeing the Führer as if he were God himself. Looks like Craig and I aren’t the only homos here. 

“Eric Cartman is that you?” A female voice pulled his attention away from the Führer and he looked to his side. _Heidi fucking Turner._ Heidi Turner was the only girl he dated in school, a girl who used him because he was part of the regime. He was a tool to Heidi, nothing more.

“Unless my birth certificate has changed,” Cartman said not even trying to hide his sarcasm.

“Word is you’ve become a high ranking officer. What is your status now?” Heidi asked flipping her brunette hair over her shoulder to expose her bare shoulder; her dress came down to her knees, was blue and only covered one shoulder.

“Can’t tell you Heidi. Confidential. You understand.” He may have sounded polite, but there was venom coating every word.

“Oh? I like a man of mystery. Care to dance Eric?” Cartman was surprised he hadn’t broken the glass in his hands with how tight he was gripping it. She didn’t deserve to say his name, and coming from her mouth it was like she was spewing poison. He made the decision then and there to give up the game and tell Kyle his name just so he could un-taint his ears from hearing it from Heidi.

“With all do respect Heidi, I’d rather-”

“Sir, Heidi was nice enough to ask for a dance. Surely you won’t deny the beautiful lady?” Craig said gripping his shoulder firmly in warning. In other words, the Führer’s eyes were on them again. “I see Bebe, I think a dance with her sounds nice.” Cartman knew what he meant by that too. Clyde had asked Craig to pass on some words to Bebe, his girlfriend. “Enjoy yourself sir.” With that Craig left to ask Bebe to dance.

“Alright Heidi,” Cartman said with bitterness, but he took Heidi’s hand and led her to the dance floor. When they started Heidi pulled him against her body, a little too close for Cartman’s liking; not that he liked any of this. They started to waltz, Cartman leading like the man always did.

“I’m surprised you can dance Eric, you’re really good,” Heidi said seeming impressed. Heidi continued to speak, but Cartman barely heard a word she said, instead his mind wandered elsewhere. This dance, this dance was all wrong. All of the steps were right, and his posture was flawless. But it was wrong. Cartman could now fully understand, and appreciate, what Kyle had meant when he said they fit perfectly when they danced together. Kyle was right, him and Cartman had a connection when they danced, like they were always meant to. As cliché as it sounded, they did fit together like a puzzle piece and with Heidi it was like the corner piece trying to fit in the center.

“Eric are you even listening to me?” Heidi’s nagging words brought him back to his current, and unpleasant, situation.

“Sorry, I was counting my steps. Have to be perfect for the lady, you know.” He was sure his eyes would get stuck in the back of their sockets by how much he had rolled them. Heidi however, didn’t seem to pick up on his sarcasm.

“You’re so thoughtful Eric.” Cartman didn’t miss the squeeze she gave his arm and it took all his strength to not wince. “I was saying we should try again, you and me. You know, get back together.” Cartman nearly raged from her words alone, so when she rubbed her hand down his chest he instantly pushed her away and stepped back.

“This dance is over Heidi,” Cartman sneered with malice, quickly moving away from the dance floor.

“Eric,” Heidi said without raising her voice so she didn’t cause a scene as she followed him. “Don’t embarrass me Eric, come back and dance with me.” This really struck a nerve with Cartman and he sharply turned around to face Heidi.

“Me embarrass you? What about school, Heidi? You only dated me to exploit me. Did you forget that?” He really wanted to raise his voice, but did not want the Führer to see his rage. Heidi crossed her arms and gave a humph of annoyance.

“Oh Eric, that was ages ago, I was so young and stupid back then.”

“Well you’re still one of those things, sweet cakes.” Cartman made a beeline for the nearest woman, that was alone, that he could find. “Care to dance miss?” Cartman asked the woman, turning on the charm and offering her his hand. The woman blushed, said nothing but accepted his invitation with a nod. “See you around Heidi,” he said leading the woman to the dance floor, not once looking back at the scowling Heidi behind him.

Cartman danced flawlessly with a few more women as the night went on. With all of them he came to the same conclusion, he was meant to dance with Kyle; he was meant _for_ Kyle. He even guessed that he if he were to dance with another man he would still feel the same. Heart and soul, he belonged to Kyle. This dance was proof.

Cartman and Craig were taking five together in a far off corner when an announcement was made that all soldiers were to immediately come to a meeting down the hall. Craig met Cartman’s eyes as if saying _‘this is it’_ and then they both followed the other soldiers out of the ballroom to go to the meeting hall.

When everyone was in the room, the door was shut behind them and a single soldier stood at the door to guard it; probably keeping them in and others out. On the side of the huge room was a raised platform that the Führer walked up to stand upon. When he was standing in the center of the platform, every soldier, including Cartman and Craig, heiled him. That was the first time heiling him felt completely wrong, even disgusting to Cartman.

Once the soldiers stood at ease, the Führer began his speech. He started off by informing the soldiers that the red army was defeated and would never again rise; a victory for Germany to say the least. Then he spoke of The Final Solution-the extermination of all the Jews, of all the people in the camps; men, women, and children-all of them. The Führer said if a camp did not house a gas chamber, to expect a letter in the coming weeks with times and dates when a train would arrive to take a cart of prisoners to a death camp. He ended his speech saying how much the German people were the dominant race, the perfect race, and all others would be eliminated.

The whole room erupted in applause, in cheers, all but Cartman and Craig who looked at each other in complete horror. The death of all Jews, of all in the camps…their Führer was indeed the definition of a _true_ monster.

//

The car ride back to the camp was silent, neither Cartman nor Craig spoke because they knew the driver may report anything they say. But Cartman knew, he knew that Craig held the same rage and disgust as he did. Even before Kyle he didn’t want the complete extermination of the Jews, he just wanted them to suffer. But this-this was madness, insanity. How in the world could they fight something like this? “Eric look!” Craig spoke up, snapping Cartman out of his rage.

Cartman looked out the window as Craig did and his eyes went wide. The barracks of his camp were on fire. “Drive faster!” Cartman ordered the driver who did as he was ordered. As soon as the car came to a screeching halt Cartman and Craig flew out of the car and sprinted towards the group of prisoners running towards the main yard away from the flames. While they couldn’t yell the names of the men they were looking for, they both knew they were looking for Tweek and Kyle through the chaos.

“Let me go!”

“Tweek. Eric this way!” Craig yelled over the screams of the prisoners. Craig and Cartman pushed through the traumatized crowd, getting closer and closer to the burning barracks. When they reached the front of the crowd they saw Tweek being restrained by a soldier, but that didn’t stop him from kicking and screaming to get away. “Let him go now! He needs to be taken away from here you idiot! He’s too close to the flames!” Craig ordered the soldier who immediately released Tweek. Instead of running to Craig like Cartman assumed he would, he instead ran over to Cartman.

“Cartman! Kyle and Ike are still in there!” Cartman’s world stopped and he could no longer hear. Kyle was right, something bad was going to happen tonight, but not to him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without going into detail, life just got in the way and I apologize this is so late. And here I am giving y'all a cliffhanger. Oops. ^__^ But thanks you guys for being so patient with my story.   
> Yes I poked fun at Joseph Goebbels, I had to xD   
> Hope you guys liked this one and let me know what y'all think ♡♡


	19. Chapter 19

_||“Amazing how fire exposes our priorities.”||_

“You’re not listening to me, you know?” Tweek said without even the slightest bit of irritation. Tweek and Kyle _had_ been talking in their corner of the barracks, but some time during their talk Kyle had stopped listening to Tweek and was staring off into space.

“Oh _Kahl_ , you’re such a _Jew._ ” That got Kyle’s attention. The red head snapped his attention back to Tweek with the widest eyes Tweek has ever seen; Tweek didn’t know if he looked petrified or very confused. “God Kyle, you should see your face. It’s priceless,” Tweek said through giggles that he tried to keep as quiet as he could, trying to muffle them with his hand.

“Ha-ha Tweek, so funny,” Kyle said as he playfully rolled his eyes, trying his best to keep a straight face but he had to admit his Cartman impression was pretty spot on. When Tweek finally stopped his muffled chuckles, he spoke again to Kyle.

“You know, I’m used to people ignoring me, but I gotta say it hurts coming from someone I love like a brother,” Tweek said with a pretty heavy sigh and hid his face behind his hand. Kyle immediately felt horrible and launched straight into an apology.

“Tweek I’m so sorry. Really I just-” But Tweek suddenly flicked him not too harshly on the forehead.

“Gah! I’m kidding you dip. I was just trying to get you to really snap out of it. I think your pores are leaking with worry,” Tweek said with another chuckle. Kyle rubbed the back of his neck and gave a small sigh.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Kyle, you’re talking to the guy who was born having panic attacks from the womb. Probably. Wouldn’t doubt it. But my point is, yes, it’s obvious you’re worried, very worried about him.” Kyle met Tweek’s eyes with sad ones of his own.

“I am. I just can’t shake this feeling that something is wrong, that something bad is going to happen,” Kyle said rubbing at the irritation he was feeling in the pit of his stomach. Tweek grabbed a piece of his blond hair and pulled at it.

“Oh jesus. What about Craig? He is with him too. Oh god.” Kyle gave him a weak smile while he removed Tweek’s hand from his hair. Now Kyle felt bad that his insecurities reached Tweek.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, right Tweek? Craig can take care of himself, you know that. Come on, we really should head to bed.” But before Kyle could stand, Tweek gripped his arm.

“Cartman can’t take care of himself though.” Kyle’s eyes went wide looking at his best friend. “He needs you, and you’re not there to help him. Is that why you’re worried Kyle?”

If Kyle were being honest he hadn’t even thought about that possibility, but now that Tweek had said it, it made sense. Maybe that was the reason he was so worried. Deep down he did feel like Cartman needed him, to help him get out of the dark hole he had dived into so long ago after his sister was killed. But Kyle also wondered if Cartman really did need him, or was Kyle just getting ahead or full of himself?

Instead of answering Tweek, he just smiled and took his hand. “Bedtime Tweek.” With that Kyle stood, helped Tweek up, and then took a step towards their bunk. As soon as he took that first step he tumbled forward, but Tweek caught him before he hit the floor; he was giggling to himself. Kyle looked down and noticed his shoelaces were braided together between his feet.

“That’s what you get for not listening to me Kahl.” Kyle rolled his eyes and playfully shoved Tweek’s face away, the whole time he was smiling.

“Okay, I deserved that.”

//

Kyle was used to screaming, constant screaming, so when it woke him up he merely rolled over to try and go back to sleep. That was until Tweek roughly, even painfully, shook him to get his attention. “Kyle wake up! There’s a fire! We have to get out!” Sleep fatigue was no match for the adrenaline that shot through Kyle’s body and he was out of his bunk instantly.

“Ike!” Kyle shouted in panic, searching his brother’s bunk but his panic immediately turned to terror when he found that Ike wasn’t there. “Ike?!”

“I’m here Kyle!” Kyle whipped around to see his brother aiding an elderly man out of his own bunk. Of course he would try and help another, he was a Broflovski after all; Ike was helping the man walk with an arm wrapped around the teens neck and shoulder.

“Please, my grandson. His toes are frostbitten and he can barely walk,” the old man pleaded while Ike helped him. Before Ike could say anything, Kyle immediately stepped in.

“I got him, don’t worry.” Kyle ran to the man’s bunk where his grandson was attempting to stand to follow, but as he said he was having much difficulty to just stand. “There is a fire and I’m going to help you, is that alright?” Kyle knew there wasn’t time for this but he didn’t want the kid to be so scared that he would kick and scream against Kyle. The boy’s eyes followed his grandfather’s frame for a moment against Ike, then turned back to Kyle and nodded. “Good, wrap your arms around my neck and I’ll carry you.” The boy did so, also locking his legs around Kyle’s boney hips. “Tweek don’t leave my side!” Kyle yelled as he joined up with Ike, the old man, and Tweek.

“Gah! Right behind you Kyle!”

The scene in the barracks was chaos, however they had been lucky the fire had not yet made it to their end of the building; but Kyle knew it was fast approaching. The prisoners were yelling, pushing against each other, pushing anyone out of their way if they thought they could make it past. Most of the prisoners seemed to think it was every man for themselves, unlike Ike and Kyle who were actually helping; Kyle knew the trauma of the camp gave the prisoners this selfish mentality.

But he couldn’t think of others selfishness at a time like this. He kept an eye on his brother, held the boy tight against him, and pushed forward. They may have been escaping the fire, but not the smoke. The smoke reached Kyle’s lungs just as they all pooled out into the yard. The scene outside was no better than inside the barracks; mass hysteria and panic.

Kyle noticed some of the prisoners even tried to run towards the gate in an attempt to escape the camp during the confusion, but soldiers seemed to appear out of nowhere and shot them on sight. Kyle had to look away. His plan wasn’t escape, it was survival, for him and his brothers.

Kyle and Ike sat the old man and his grandson down where the other men were gathering in the yard. The young boy clung to his grandfather, both of them sobbed with relief that they were safe and still together. “Thank you boys, bless you, bless you both,” the old man cried in gratitude towards Kyle and Ike.

The boys merely nodded their heads with a smile. Kyle wanted to say anyone would have done the same, but he knew in this harsh reality he was wrong. He knew he was wrong when he watched prisoners trample and run all over their fellow men, the ones who were weaker and could not keep up with the others. No one bothered to stop and help and it made Kyle sick to his stomach.

“Ike where the hell are you going?!” Kyle screamed grabbing his brother by the arm when he nearly bolted from his side.

“There are more people in there Kyle, I’m going to help!”

Kyle’s eyes went wide with terror. “You’re not going back in there Ike and it’s not up for discussion!” Kyle clung so tight to Ike’s arm he knew his nails were digging into him, but he wasn’t about to let his baby brother go back into a burning building.

“I can’t let them die Kyle! What if it was me in there? You would run right back in wouldn’t you?” But it wasn’t Ike in there, Ike was right here. Couldn’t Kyle be selfish for one time in his life? “We can’t be separated anymore than we have Kyle!” That single statement hit Kyle like a slap across the face. Ike wasn’t talking about them personally, but the prisoners as a whole. Men have been separated from their wives, children from their mothers, brothers from their sisters; families had been physically ripped apart. Over the months there had been boys who lost their fathers, their grandfathers, and fathers lost their sons. But Ike wanted to make sure no one else was torn apart if he could help it and he sure as hell wanted to.

“I’m coming with you,” Kyle stated, ready to follow his brother back into the burning barracks.

“Gah! Then I’m coming with you guys!” Tweek wasn’t about to be left alone while his new family risked their lives; he wanted to help. Kyle turned to him, grabbed his pinky with his own and pressed his forehead against his.

“Tweek I promise we’ll be back. I’m begging you, stay here. I know my father will be here any second, scared out of his mind. Take care of him please, Tweek.” Tweek did not argue, knowing they were pressed for time. Tweek squeezed Kyle’s pinky and then shoved him away.

“Hurry up! Go!” Kyle didn’t miss the tears that were running down his face before he turned to follow Ike back into the barracks.

“Cover your mouth and nose Ike!” Kyle ordered using his sleeve to cover his own. When they made it back to the main room of the barracks, half of it was already ablaze and Kyle knew it was spreading fast. There were men, and elderly men just sitting there in their bunks, some of them even lying in them as if they were asleep. Realization hit Kyle in the gut hard. _These men wanted to die and were waiting for death._ They didn’t want to he saved and in this moment Kyle didn’t know if he felt sorry for them, or hated them.

“Kyle we have to get them to move, they are probably too scared,” Ike said running towards the men.

“Wait-no-Ike!” Either Ike truly believed the men were too terrified to move, or he was in denial about what fate these men chose.

“Let me go boy!” One of the men angrily snapped at Ike, yanking away his arm when Ike grabbed it. If Ike looked offended or terrified, Kyle could not tell, still Ike tried to help again. “Get up all of you! We have to go! Are you all blind?!” Yelling all of this sent Ike into a coughing fit because of the smoke he was inhaling by doing so; Kyle was at his side in an instant.

“Ike we have to go, the room is starting to collapse,” Kyle informed him with his sleeve still over his mouth. The next moment a portion of the far wall collapsed on one of the men still sitting in their bed. Kyle looked away, horrified at the sight and felt blessed Ike did not see it.

“But Kyle-”

“Listen to your brother, kid, and get out. We are choosing to die here, rather than spend one more minute in this hell hole. Leave us be,” the man said as he laid down in his bed, awaiting his inevitable fate.

“But-”

“Ike let’s go!” With that Kyle yanked him away, making sure Ike wouldn’t turn to look back, he wouldn’t allow him to see these men burning to their deaths. There was fire all around them, the room was collapsing, but Kyle kept his eyes forward, they needed to keep going. He had to get Ike out, he had to get back to Tweek, get back to his family, get back to- _Cartman._ He was going to see the Commandant again, that thought alone kept his legs moving. But it seemed like fate had other plans for him.

In the burning hallway, a beam fell from the ceiling, hitting both Ike and Kyle on the head. Ike was instantly knocked unconscious, but Kyle was fighting the oncoming darkness. “I-Ike,” he could barely manage to say as he dropped to his knees. He wouldn’t know how he had the sense or strength to roll the beam away from them, but he managed. Kyle tried to help Ike up, but his vision was getting hazy, he tried to shake his head and blink away the stars behind his eyes, but it was for not. Kyle collapsed on his side, reaching for Ike’s hand. “I’m s-sorry Ike.” The darkness was consuming Kyle now, his eyes closing and his body going numb.

“Kyle!” Kyle smiled blissfully. He really was dying here, why else would he hear the voice of his angel?

//

“Eric!” Tweek shouted, breaking Cartman out of his terror upon hearing Kyle and his brother were still in the burning building. When Cartman blinked back into reality he saw Craig holding Tweek against his body, his hand secured over his mouth so he wouldn’t speak. From any onlooker it looked like a soldier securing a prisoner, but Cartman knew Craig was embracing him, thankful _he_ wasn’t in the building.

Cartman needed to act, not only fast, but smart. He couldn’t just run into a burning building in front of nearly every single person in the camp to save two Jews. Right now he needed to act as the Commandant. “I need every able-bodied man in work here. Keep the prisoners from escaping, keep them in line, and for God sakes put out this goddamn fire before I lose my whole camp!” The men followed his orders without hesitation.

Cartman looked once to Tweek, nodded, and then took the chance while he knew everyone was distracted, handling the prisoners and the fire, to slip away. Thank god he knew a back way into the barracks. Rather than a doorway, Cartman was met with a fiery vortex that he knew could lead to death, but he didn’t care. He needed to save Kyle and his brother, and he’d laugh in death’s face to do so. Just before he ran into the building, he heard a voice near him. “Eric you have a big mouth, but try to keep it covered.” It was Craig, running right to his side, covering his own mouth with his sleeve. Cartman’s eyes went wide. “I’ll grab Ike, you get Kyle, come on.” Cartman didn’t have time to argue, he would scold him later. A second later Cartman and Craig ran into the burning barracks.

He didn’t know where the brothers were, but he would look through every room if he had to, screw a bloody fire. “Kyle!” Cartman yelled at every room entrance he passed, he didn’t care his lungs were at risk each time he yelled.

“Eric! In the hallway ahead!” Craig screamed looking ahead. Cartman’s head jerked in time to see the outline of his Jew fall over onto his side.

“Kyle!” Cartman yelled, sprinting forward without hesitation. While he ran towards Kyle it felt like the hallway went on forever, that he would never reach him and he kept getting further and further away. After what seemed like eternity, and twelve miles later, Cartman and Craig reached them. It didn’t take a genius to put together what happened with the beam, but Cartman was thankful they weren’t trapped under it. “Kyle!” Cartman panicked at the fact he was unconscious, Ike too.

“Eric we have to get them out now!” Craig was right, there was no time to panic; he was thankful he had his first officer at his side to keep him sane in this moment. Craig scooped up Ike, Cartman scooped up Kyle, and both men ran back the way they came. “The building is gonna collapse, we have to hurry!” Craig noted, both of them ran at a speed they didn’t know was possible while the barracks fell apart around them.

They made it out just in time before the entire building gave way. _Thank god._ Cartman mentally prayed as the pair moved yards away from the fire and placed the boys on the ground; the heat from the fire had melted the snow of a small surrounding area of the grounds. “Ike’s still breathing, how’s Kyle?” Craig asked after he listened for Ike’s breath. Cartman leaned down to press his ear to Kyle’s mouth to listen for breathing, but heard nor felt any air escaping.

“He’s not breathing!” Cartman panicked.

“Eric, start CPR but don’t do chest compressions, he’s so skinny you may puncture a lung or break a rib!” Cartman didn’t even respond, but jumped into action immediately. He opened Kyle’s mouth further, plugged his nose, and breathed into him. He did this a few times, but Kyle still wasn’t coming to.

“No no no! Kyle come on! Breathe dammit! Kyle!” Cartman breathed into him again. “Kyle I’m seriously! Breathe!” Cartman tried again. He wasn’t about to lose his Jew, not now, not when he hadn’t even told him that he loved him. “God dammit Kyle, I love you, I love you you stupid Jew now wake up!” Cartman breathed into him once more. “Kyle!” By this time Cartman was hysterical, tears were running down his face that was covered in soot from the fire. This wasn’t happening. This was just God laughing at him again wasn’t it? _You took Iris away from me, but god dammit you’re not taking Kyle._ He breathed into him again. Cartman cupped his pale cheek in his large hand. “Kyle, you never even guessed my name, it’s Eric! My name is Eric!”

Just then Kyle’s eyes snapped opened and he went into a coughing fit. “Kyle!” Cartman cried out in relief and pure happiness. When Kyle was able to get his coughing under control, Cartman wished he had water on him, and after a few deep breaths, he looked up at Cartman and smiled.

“Eric, that was my next guess.” Cartman’s tears only increased, some even falling down onto Kyle’s own soot covered face. Cartman yanked Kyle into an embrace, making sure his head was over his shoulder so he could breathe.

“You stupid Jew. Stupid, stupid Jew.” He felt one arm wrap lazily around him and pat him on the back.

“I love you too Eric.” Cartman didn’t have time to react when Kyle suddenly panicked. “Ike!” He pushed away from Cartman and looked around for his brother. He tried to move when he saw Ike unconscious by Craig, but Craig held a hand up to stop him.

“He’s okay Kyle, unconscious, but breathing.” Craig told him with a smile. Kyle relaxed against Cartman and nodded.

“Thank you.”

Before anything else was said, a blond blur came passed Cartman’s vision. “Kyle!” Tweek seemed to appear out of nowhere and flung himself against Kyle, wrapping his arms around his neck. “Kyle, I was so scared! Oh Jesus!” Cartman blushed at the sudden embrace, but allowed it; he was no fool to how much these two meant to each other, in a platonic way, and Cartman had to accept that.

“We’re okay Tweek. Ike and I are okay,” Kyle whispered returning Tweek’s embrace, but then had another coughing fit.

“Let’s get you both up to the Villa, I’ll have Dr. Wyatt check you and Ike out.”

//

Cartman was thankful to hear that Kyle and Ike escaped the fire both with minor injuries and there was no sign of concussion from the hit to the head from the fallen beam. Smoke inhalation, and a scrape from the beam were the worst of their injuries.

Kyle and Ike were sitting on the couch in the Villa, both hooked up to a breathing treatment apparatus. “You both will have to undergo breathing treatments for a few days, but you’ll be fine,” Dr. Wyatt informed them and then rummaged through his medical bag. “The scrape you both received isn’t severe, and barely bled. Just apply this ointment twice a day until it heals,” he said handing the ointment to Kyle’s outstretched hands. Kyle nodded his head in gratitude and understanding.

“Sir,” Gerald said turning to Cartman.  
Cartman had learned from Tweek that Gerald had shown up in the yard during the fire and when they were returning to the Villa, Tweek retrieved him when he knew Kyle and Ike were okay.

“Mr. Broflovski, please, you don’t have to keep thanking us.” Several times this evening Gerald had thanked Cartman and Craig for saving his sons lives, but it really didn’t need to be said over and over.

“No, that isn’t what I was going to say this time sir.”

Cartman looked at him curiously. “What is it Mr. Broflovski?”

“Will you allow my sons to stay here, just until they recover?” Cartman felt Kyle’s eyes on him without even having to look at his Jew when his father asked this.

“They may Mr. Broflovski.” Of course he would allow them to stay, he nearly lost Kyle tonight, he didn’t want him out of his sight so soon. Ike and Gerald seemed happy at his decision, but he noticed Kyle eyeing him curiously. Cartman avoided his gaze and turned to Craig.

“Lieutenant Craig, I need to return to the yard, I leave them in your care for now,” Cartman said turning to leave the room, but Dr. Wyatt spoke and stopped him.

“Commandant, when you get back I want to examine you as well. I think you have a few burns where your uniform was singed.”

“Fine,” Cartman said dismissively and walked from the room.

“Cartman wait,” Craig called running after him. Cartman sighed heavily and turned to face him.

“What is it Craig?”

“Sir, about Tweek-” Cartman’s eyes trailed back to the living room where he knew Tweek was standing next to Kyle. The blond refused to leave Kyle and Ike and followed them back to the Villa. He even vocalized he didn’t care if he was punished later.

“Listen Lieutenant, Tweek has to leave tonight-” Craig look appalled.

“But sir-!” But Cartman held a hand up to silence him.

“However, if he were to sneak back in when I’m not looking I can’t do anything about it now can I?” The look of relief on Craig’s face was almost comical to Cartman and he actually had to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling.

“Yes sir,” Craig said as he bowed and then ran back to the living room.

When Cartman went back to the yard, the soldiers were putting out the remainder of the fire. They were lucky it only burned down one building and the fire didn’t spread across the whole camp. Something that caught Cartman’s eye more than the fire were the bodies, dead bodies that had nothing to do with the fire itself. They had tried to escape during the chaos and were shot on sight. That led him to wonder if the fire was started by a prisoner as a distraction to escape. It was just a theory but they may never actually know how it happened.

When the fire was completely out, Cartman had walked to the center of the yard to make an announcement. “In the coming days I want this mess cleaned up. If you have other labors assigned to you, you will forget them. This grotesque sight will be the top priority, is that understood?” While everyone was listening, no one said a single word in reply but they did nod in understanding. Cartman wasn’t sure he was looking at men or ghosts, they all looked-soulless. In this moment he wanted to share his condolences with those who perished from the fire and from his soldiers, but he knew he had to keep face. “The prisoners who lived in this building will have to be moved to other barracks tonight and will remain indefinitely.” He gave a few more orders and then made his way back to the Villa.

Dr. Wyatt checked him over like he wanted. He had a few burns that he hadn’t even remembered acquiring. The doctor said his adrenaline was probably so high that he wasn’t able to register any pain to his person. He gave Cartman a small container of silver sulfadiazine for his burns and told him he wanted him and Craig to do some breathing treatments as well over the next few days, just to be safe.

After Dr. Wyatt dismissed Cartman from his care, he decided to check on Kyle and his family. He expected to see everyone in the living room as he left them, but the only face he saw was Kyle; everyone else must have retired to bed. Kyle was asleep on the couch under his quilt, free of soot and ash. He probably took a shower while Cartman was in the yard.

While Cartman wanted nothing more to bring Kyle to bed with him, he needed a shower as well. “Good night Kyle,” he whispered and then placed a quick kiss to Kyle’s lips and departed for his bedroom bath for a much needed shower.

Before he dressed after his shower, he applied the silver sulfadiazine to the few areas where he had been burned in the fire and then wrapped them in gauze; luckily they were easy areas like his wrists, forearms, and ankles. He dressed and then left his bathroom. Seeing Kyle sitting on his bed wasn’t what he expected when he came back to his room. “Kyle, I thought you were sleeping.”

“Your kiss woke me up,” Kyle said with a shrug and then hopped off the bed. Cartman chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Does that make me Prince Charming who can awaken his sleeping beauty with a mere kiss?” Kyle reached him and playfully gave his chest a swat as he rolled his eyes.

“Prince Charming is Snow White fatass, if you’re going to talk fairytales at least get your facts right.”

“Fairytale facts? Isn’t that an oxymoron Kahl?” Kyle said nothing, instead he wrapped his arms around Cartman’s neck and buried his face in the crook of it.

“Thank you, for saving me.”

Cartman’s arms came around Kyle’s waist, so tight it was almost like a vice grip. “I was so scared, Kyle.”

“I know, the fire was really scary.” But Cartman shook his head.

“Not of the fire you idiot, I was scared of losing you. I was terrified Kyle. I couldn’t lose you, I couldn’t.” While still embracing, Kyle reached a hand up to stroke the back of Cartman’s head.

“When Ike and I were trying to get out, do you know what I kept telling myself?” Cartman said nothing, just held him awaiting his answer. “I had to make it out so I could see you again. A stupid fire wasn’t going to keep me from you, I needed to make it back to you. I just didn’t expect to be knocked unconscious.” The last part he said with a small chuckle, but Cartman barely even heard the last part. He was stuck on hearing Kyle needed to see him again, that he wanted to survive because of _him._

Cartman clung to Kyle like a lifeline. “I love you Kyle.” Kyle smiled in the crook of his neck.

“I love you too, Eric.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 500 kudos?! What is happening?! I never imagined I'd even get 5 let alone over 500. Thank you so much, all of you. Loves, hugs and cookies all around!  
> Hope you guys liked this one! ^__^ ♡♡


	20. Chapter 20

_||"They’re dancing in the shadow like whispers of love, just dreaming of a place where they’re free as doves. They’ll never be allowed to love in this cursed cage, it’s only the fairytale they believe"||_

In the days that followed, Cartman made sure that Kyle and Ike did their breathing treatments as Dr. Wyatt had advised; Cartman followed his orders and did them as well, but made sure the brothers were taken care of first. Who would have ever thought he’d be so selfless over not one, but two Jews? 

Kyle had asked Cartman several times about the New Years party and the “important” announcement from the Führer, but Cartman just wasn’t ready to tell him. He knew Kyle was stubborn and really wanted to get the information out of him, but he was grateful that Kyle knew when to back off and respected that he wasn’t quite ready to tell him. He wasn’t exactly ready to tell his Jewish lover that the man he followed and worshipped for years, was planning to wipe out his entire culture and his people. How do you even start a conversation like that? It’s not really something you talk about casually over dinner.

“Sir, a letter has arrived for you,” Clyde said handing him the envelope. All eyes in the room turned to him. Kyle, Ike, and Tweek were playing cards in the sitting room, while Cartman and Craig were playing chess a few feet away. He ignored their stares as he read over the letter and when he finished he went pale, but he saw red.

“Craig, my office, _now._ ” He didn’t shout, but he did say it firmly so that Craig knew to not argue with him. Craig stood immediately and followed him without uttering a single word. When Cartman left the room he could feel Kyle’s eyes on him without even looking back. “Close the door,” Cartman ordered as he walked behind his desk. Craig did so and then turned to the Commandant.

“What did it say?” he asked in a tone that sounded as though he already knew they were in serious trouble.

“Read it for yourself Lieutenant,” Cartman sneered sliding the letter across the desk, with a little too much force because it slipped off and Craig had to catch it in the air.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Craig shouted after he read the letter. “How did he even find out about the fire?” Cartman crossed his arms and glared at Craig with eyes full of hatred; but if that hatred was directed at himself or the Führer, Cartman himself didn’t know.

“I told him.”

“You what?! Cartman, why the hell would you do that?!” Craig didn’t even try to be quiet, or hide his anger with the Commandant.

“I’m the Commandant, Craig. My orders are to report everything that goes on in my camp,” Cartman sneered as if daring him to keep arguing with him. Craig, seeing red, ripped up the paper and threw the pieces at the Commandant.

“Oh and I suppose you’ve told him you’re helping a Jew and his family right? Or better yet, that you’re sleeping with a Jew. You’ve told him that right?” Cartman swore his blood was on fire from the rage in his chest, but he knew he couldn’t let his anger get the better of him.

“That’s enough Lieutenant!” Cartman yelled in warning, slamming both his hands down on the mahogany desk. “I don’t need you to recite to me my acts of treason, Craig. Believe me I am aware of each and every one, but now is not the time to be a spiteful asshole,” Cartman said as calmly as he could manage, even having to clench his teeth half way through.

“No, you already did that when you told the Führer about the fire, Eric,” Craig had the guts to say with venom that sprayed straight through Cartman’s skin to his heart. Yes he told the Führer about the fire because it was his job, but even more than that what would happen if he _didn’t_ tell the Führer? The consequences of withholding evidence could be more severe than anything, it was an act of treason in itself. And if Cartman was being honest, deep down he had hoped more supplies like blankets, pillows, bedding and even food would be sent because of what happened. He should have known it would backfire.

“God dammit Craig! Will you shut your mouth and get back to the real issue? The Führer wants us to move ahead of schedule and send prisoners to the gas chambers as soon as possible. How do we-?” Cartman then heard movement outside the door and he and Craig went quiet. _God damn stubborn Jew._ Cartman sighed and hung his head in defeat. “Just get in here Kahl,” Cartman ordered. He expected Kyle to swing the door open and start yelling, what he didn’t expect was seeing all the color gone from his already pale face and fear in his eyes when he stepped through the door.

“Eric, what’s going on?” Kyle asked with a shaky voice. Cartman met Craig’s eyes and he looked away, knowing it would have to be Cartman who explained things to Kyle.

“Kyle, you might want to sit down,” Cartman suggested, gesturing to a chair in front of the desk.

“Cut the crap and start explaining, fatass.” _Well there’s my fiery Jew._ Cartman nodded and he started to tell Kyle everything, starting with what they had learned at the party. “He-he plans to-to what?” Kyle stuttered in disbelief.

“It’s what he is calling his _Final Solution_ ,” Craig said putting air quotes with “Final Solution” and then rolling his eyes.

“It’s mass genocide! He’s a complete psychopath!” Kyle yelled, he was quickly rising to a hysterical level.

“Kyle, calm down so we can-” Cartman started, reaching out to place a hand on Kyle’s shoulder, but he yanked away and stepped back from the Commandant.

“Calm down? You just told me the man in charge of Germany wants to exterminate my entire race, my people, as if we were nothing more than mere insects! How the hell do you expect me to calm down?! I bet you want this don’t you? It’s what you wanted all along isn’t it _Commandant?_ ”

“Kyle! Enough!” It wasn’t Cartman who snapped at the Jew, it was Craig. But Craig didn’t shout this in warning with a fear the Commandant would lash out, he said this in Cartman’s defense because he knew Kyle had triggered Cartman.

Kyle, respecting Craig, shut his mouth immediately and stared Cartman down. The Commandant wasn’t seething as was expected, rather he looked distraught, defeated. Kyle had really struck a nerve with him, and hit him where it hurt. Yes, Kyle’s words had really pained Cartman to the core, but he also knew that he had been hysterical upon hearing the news of his people and lashed out because of what he had learned. It was a normal human reaction. How many times had he done the exact same thing? He wasn’t about to hold it against him, he didn’t have the heart nor the right.

Cartman let out a heavy sigh and then sat down on his chair behind the desk. He put his elbow on the desk and rested his temple to a fist while turning his chair away from the two slightly. “Tell him about the letter, Craig,” Cartman ordered calmly, he didn’t want to dig himself a deeper grave with all this information.

Craig stared at his superior for a moment, as if he felt the sudden need to comfort the man, but then turned all business and faced Kyle. “Originally we were to get orders at later dates to send away the prisoners, but because of the fire and the over population in the barracks, they want to speed up the process. There is a train arriving in a few days to take away a heavy number of people from this camp.” All the color drained from Kyle’s face when he heard this and he swayed on the spot.

“Son of a bitch,” he cursed finally sitting down before he passed out. Since Cartman still wasn’t talking, Craig continued.

“We thought we would have more time to discuss a plan, but where the hell would we even start? Kyle,” Craig said walking up close behind his chair and placing a hand to his shoulder. “Despite what you may believe, we don’t want this, neither of us.” Kyle looked up at Craig’s blue eyes that begged him to understand, understand that Cartman was a new man. Kyle did understand and he smiled.

“I know, but what do we do? We’re kinda boxed in here,” Kyle said biting his lip.

“There might be a way, it’s risky, but I think it might be our only choice,” Cartman finally spoke up, turning his attention to the two. Craig and Kyle looked at him curiously, ready to listen to every word of this idea. “I know a man, a man who will do anything for the right price.”

“You mean The Mole?” Craig asked and Cartman nodded.

“Who is The Mole?” Kyle asked in wonder.

“He’s basically a freelance man for hire,” Craig informed Kyle and then looked back at the Commandant. “But we can’t exactly trust him, can we?”

Cartman sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We can’t, but as long as we pay him what he wants we won’t have to worry about that. I know my plan won’t come cheap at all.” Kyle and Craig had to know, but it was Kyle who asked.

“What exactly is your plan?” Cartman’s expression became serious, more serious than either of the two in the room had ever seen. 

“I want The Mole to take over the train that is coming here. When it arrives we will load up as many prisoners as it will occupy, and instead of sending them to their deaths, I want to send them straight to freedom, into allied territory.”

Neither Craig nor Kyle could speak yet, they were both shocked by the Commandant’s plan. Did they think it was madness? Probably. Because he knew it was and it was such a risk, but really what other choice did they have? If this worked, the prisoners would be free and it would look as though the allies captured the train. It was their only choice, their only chance.

“Let’s do it,” Kyle finally said, determination etched all over his face. That was all Cartman needed to believe in his plan, Kyle’s support. He nodded and looked at Craig for his answer.

“I think you’re nuts, but I approve,” Cartman smirked.

“Make some calls Lieutenant, when you find out The Mole’s location come and get me and I’ll call him personally.”

“Yes sir,” Craig said with a nod and then left the room, leaving Cartman alone with Kyle.

After a few moments of awkward silence, with each other not knowing exactly how to proceed, Kyle spoke first. “Did you know, about the gas chambers?” Kyle asked wearily, as if he was scared of the answer, but at the same time Cartman felt like he already knew the answer and he wasn’t about to lie to Kyle.

“Yes Kyle, I knew.” He saw Kyle’s face sadden, perhaps in disappointment, he couldn’t be sure. “I haven’t lied to you Kyle. I have told you before that I never wanted Jews to die, I wanted them to suffer. The only reason I killed that man my first day in the camp was to make an impression on the prisoners, so they would fear me. I regret that each and every day, I still see his face at night when I sleep, Kyle.” Cartman said sadly, stepping out from around his desk and approached Kyle. “I want you to know that I was offered a position at a camp with a gas chamber, but I turned it down, it wasn’t something I wanted to be part of. I never imagined the gas chambers would be used for this, Final Solution. I assumed they were a last resort of torture. Kyle, you have to believe this wasn’t something I wanted, ever, even as the monster I was before I fell in love with you.” He kept his gaze locked on Kyle, as if begging him to believe him. His heart was put at ease when Kyle closed the gap between them and cupped his cheek with his hand.

“I know Eric, I’m sorry for what I said. I wasn’t in my right mind and I know I hurt you. I know you’re doing everything you can to change and I believe what you’ve said. I do, Eric.” Kyle moved his hand to rest on the back of Cartman’s neck and he pulled him down slightly so their foreheads were connected. For several moments they remained quiet, eyes closed, enjoying the peaceful moment of forgiveness in each other; Kyle rubbing the back of Cartman’s neck with his thumb the whole time.

Finally Cartman was the first to speak. “Are you sure you’re okay with this plan? You know there are risks involved.” Instead of answering right away, Kyle craned his head and pressed his lips firmly against Cartman’s who obliged him without hesitation. When he pulled his lips away from the Commandant he smiled and looked deep into his amber eyes.

“Have the risks stopped us from loving each other, Eric?” Cartman said nothing, he didn’t need to. “Do you know why?” Cartman again remained silent, millions of thoughts in his mind, but unable to form any verbally. Kyle took Cartman’s hand in his and nuzzled his cheek against his knuckles. “Because this is right, Eric. Despite the risks, despite the consequences, it’s right and worth any risk. Just like your plan. It’s the right thing to do and I’m so proud of you.” Those words, those five words meant more to Cartman than any declaration of love. Kyle was proud of him, of him, Eric Theodore Cartman! He had finally done something right in his unfortunate and miserable life. But Kyle wasn’t done putting his emotions into overdrive. “Irisviel, would be proud of you.”

Before Kyle could see the tears in his eyes, Cartman yanked him against him and embraced him as if he were a tether for the emotions that were trying to overpower him. Cartman wanted to thank him, to tell him how much everything he had said meant to him, but instead he whispered against Kyle’s blazing curls, “Stupid Jew.” And cried silently into his hair.

Kyle said nothing as he smiled and embraced his lover back, offering him all the comfort in the world, letting him know that he would always be at his side, even through the darkest of days.

//

“Gah!” Tweek snapped awake from a nightmare and panicked when he realized he was restrained and couldn’t move. _Oh god!_ He panicked more when the restraints got tighter around his waist.

“Tweek, it’s okay.” _Oh. Craig. That’s right, I’m in bed with Craig._ Tweek took a few deep breaths to calm down and touched Craig’s arm that was around him as if to validate it was really him.

“Ah. Sorry Craig,” Tweek apologized and Craig answered with a grumble.

“Go back to sleep, Tweek.” Tweek smiled and wiggled out from underneath him.

“I need a drink, my throat is killing me.” Tweek’s ears were met with soft snores and he knew Craig had fallen back asleep.

Tweek left the room and quietly made his way into the kitchen, keeping one hand flat against the wall and one out in front of him to feel his way through the dark villa. “Tweek is that you?” Tweek could have sworn he jumped ten feet in the air and that his heart stopped all in the same moment.

“Oh j-jesus M-Mr. Broflovski y-you scared me,” he tried to say as quietly as he could despite being so traumatized.

“I’ll turn on a light,” Gerald said and then turned on a small night light in the room. “Are you okay Tweek?” Gerald asked in concern for the boy.

“Y-yeah. Thirsty.” Gerald smiled and stood from the small table in the kitchen that only sat two.

“Sit down Tweek, I’ll get you something, but it won’t be coffee.” Tweek couldn’t help but chuckle at this when he sat down in the chair across from where Gerald was sitting. Gerald poured Tweek a glass of orange juice, and one for himself, and then joined Tweek at the table.

“Th-thank you. H-how did you kn-know it was me? It was really d-dark.” Tweek mentally cursed his stutter. He could speak to Kyle and Craig without stuttering, but dammit not Kyle’s father just yet.

“You shuffle your feet when you walk. Kyle is so light on his feet you’d never hear him, and Ike might as well be wearing boots he’s so loud.” Tweek had to blush at this, not just because it was funny, but because it meant Gerald had paid attention to him and his mannerisms. He didn’t even know he shuffled, but it didn’t surprise him at all since his anxiety was so high.

The two entered into a comfortable silence while they nursed their juice; Tweek’s nightmare long since forgotten. Eventually, Gerald was the first to break the silence. “Say Tweek, when this war is over, what will you do?”

Tweek didn’t expect this question, not from Gerald, and not in the serious manner in which he asked it. Kyle and Tweek would often talk about what they would do after the war, but it was more talk of hope, to keep their spirits up from day to day. Hell, Tweek once told Kyle he’d ride a horse and he was terrified of horses. For some reason Tweek knew Gerald wasn’t talking hypothetically, he really wanted to know what Tweek would do. “I-I don’t know.” He didn’t lie, he really didn’t know what he would do.

“What about your family, Tweek? Will you look for them? Go back to them?” Gerald asked sincerely and the question actually made Tweek smirk.

“My fam-family? My family put me into the c-camp. They never loved me. I don’t want to s-see them and I don’t want to f-find them,” he said in probably the sharpest tone he ever heard come from his own mouth. He intentionally kept Craig out of this conversation for the simple reason that Craig is on the wrong side. If the war ended with the allies winning, he didn’t want to think what would happen to Craig. “I guess when it’s o-over I’ll be an orphan,” Tweek said as if it was no big deal, which surprised him because normally such a thought would insight his anxiety; guess his parents betrayal hit him harder than he thought.

“What if you didn’t have to?” Gerald asked suddenly and Tweek snapped to attention.

“Wh-what what do you mean? I told you, I don’t w-want to see my family,” Tweek snapped in defense. Gerald just smiled, keeping calm while Tweek was starting to panic.

“But you see your family everyday Tweek, you’ve realized that haven’t you?” Tweek gasped softly and he stilled, his panic turning to anticipation.

“Mr. Broflovski, what are you g-getting at?”

“I’m asking if you would allow me to adopt you, as my son?” It was a good thing Tweek was not currently holding his glass because he would surely have dropped it after hearing that from Gerald.

“Wh-what?” Tweek had to ask, just to make sure he heard him right.

“My sons love you Tweek, they see you as their brother, and I love you as my own. Would you approve if, after the war, we made it official?” Gerald had a very bright and proud smile on his face that told Tweek he was completely serious. He wanted to adopt Tweek into his family, as his son.

“B-but can y-you do that? E-even though I have parents?” Tweek asked in worry, not wanting to get his hopes too high.

“All of our personal documents were lost, I know they were destroyed before we came to the camp, technically we don’t have any identification. After the war we will need new documentation, it will be simple to claim you as my own. But only if you want to, if it’s something _you_ want.”

“It is! I mean yes! I mean-” he knew he sounded way too excited so he tried to tone it down; he especially didn’t want to wake up the whole villa.  
But Tweek really did want this, more than anything. Tweek had always dreamed of having a family who actually loved him and cared about him, and he had that with the Broflovksi’s, but this was so much more. He was being welcomed into the family with opened arms as one of them. Nothing in this world could ever mean more to him, not even Craig. “It would be an h-honor to become part of your f-family Mr. Broflovski.”

“Gerald is fine, Tweek. Maybe one day you’ll be comfortable enough to call me papa, but I won’t rush you by any means,” Gerald said with a smile. He stood and took both their glasses and placed them in the sink. “You should try to get back to sleep Tweek, I know how difficult it is for you.”

Without warning, without hesitation, Tweek stood from the table and ran into Gerald’s arms and held onto him tightly. “Thank you papa.” He knew there was nothing else he could say, that he needed to say, he knew it was enough for what Gerald had offered.

Gerald returned his embrace as a father would, warm and tender, with so much love that Tweek could definitely feel. When they pulled away, Gerald gave Tweek a soft pat on the cheek and smiled with tears of adoration in his eyes. “Good night my son.”

//

When Dr. Wyatt had cleared Kyle and Ike of their breathing treatments, they returned to working in the camp the next day, along with Tweek. Cartman had of course protested, even went so far as to say he didn’t care if the entire camp thought them to be dead. But Kyle was stubborn and he had said he wasn’t about to sit back in a comfy villa while his people worked themselves to the bone, because at the end of the day he was still a prisoner. While Cartman wanted to argue further, even order him to remain at the villa, he knew Kyle’s mind was made up and it was be useless to argue with him.

Luckily it took less time than he thought to get in contact with The Mole. The Mole listened to Cartman’s plan on the phone, and then named his price. If the mission wasn’t so important and critical, Cartman would have laughed at him and told him to shove his price, but the mission hinged on The Mole doing his job so Cartman agreed to his price; luckily being the Commandant paid handsomely.

The train arrived sooner than expected and Cartman prayed The Mole had enough time to take control of it as planned. Nearly all of the prisoners that were housed in the barracks that had burned down were gathered near the train; Cartman wanted as many loaded as he could in hopes they would be freed if this plan worked. Cartman, with Craig at his side holding a clipboard and briefcase, waited on a platform near the front of the train. A moment later a man with rough looking brown hair, a black shirt, and black fingerless gloves stepped out puffing a cigarette between his lips.

“You got the money?” It was all he said, not even a hello, it was all business. It was The Mole, he got the train. Craig handed the briefcase to The Mole and he took it without looking inside, apparently trusting that Cartman had indeed put the money in there. After all, Cartman was the one with too much to lose with this deal, he wouldn’t cheat him. “Good. Load em.” The Mole turned to get back in the train.

“Load em up!” Cartman ordered his men who stood waiting for his orders. The soldiers did as commanded, and with brute force, shoved the prisoners into the cars.

“Sir, I need you to sign these few papers regarding our orders with the train,” Craig told Cartman, offering him the clipboard and a pen.

“Yes, fine,” Cartman only looked at the papers and where to sign, he read nothing else. After doing so, he looked back at the prisoners being loaded into the cars. Some of them looked fearful, but most of them looked like they had given up a long time ago and were just waiting for an inevitable death. Cartman could only hope this worked for their sakes, so they could have their hope back; something Kyle never lost.

He had offered for Kyle and his family, even Tweek to leave on the train, but to his surprise each and every one of them refused. They had said they were family and that they wouldn’t stand to be separated and Kyle had made it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t leave him, Cartman. Kyle had chosen him over a chance at freedom. He really didn’t deserve Kyle.

After the train was loaded it immediately took off and Cartman turned to find Kyle staring at him from his work station. Even from as far away as he was, he didn’t miss his lips forming the words, _I’m proud of you._

//

Cartman was growing restless, waiting to hear from The Mole about the mission several days later. “Cartman, you’re making me anxious dude. Just chill,” Craig said getting annoyed from Cartman’s endless evening pacing.

“I can’t help it Craig. If you haven’t noticed I’ve actually done something good for once and I’m kinda worried it’s gonna blow up in my face.” Yes he said it, said it aloud and felt absolutely no shame. He half expected Craig to tease him, but he didn’t, he merely returned to the book he was reading at the dining room table.

“Eric, Rome wasn’t built in a day,” Kyle said wisely from his place on the couch with Cartman’s quilt over his lap. Kyle may have returned to work in the camp during the day, but at night he still came back to Cartman.

“Yes it was. The saying is _Rome was built in a day!_ " Cartman argued. Kyle glared at him.

“No it isn’t fatass. It _wasn’t_ built in a day. How the hell can you build a whole city in one day?”

Cartman through his hands up in the air and shrugged. “Magic? Didn’t Rome have gods? I don’t know. Whatever Kahl!” The two looked away from each other and the room fell into silence. Such silence that Cartman nearly jumped out of his skin when the phone rang. The room went silent as Cartman darted towards the phone to answer it.  
“Commandant Cartman,” he said when he answered so the other person knew who they were speaking to.

“Dorothy has returned to Kanas,” was all the person said and then hung up.

He was frozen, unable to put the phone down, his heart beating rapidly. There were people talking to him behind him, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. It wasn’t until he felt a hand on his shoulder that he put the phone down and turned to see Kyle looking worried. “What happened, Eric?”

“It worked. The allies liberated the train. They’re safe, they’re free,” Cartman said as if he didn’t believe it if he didn’t say it aloud. He was still in such shock that his plan had worked that he didn’t see the relief on Kyle’s face before he flung his arms around Cartman’s neck and hugged him tightly.

“You did it Eric! You did it!” He was happy, he was genuinely happy. Not because Kyle was so proud, but because it felt good to do the right thing and it actually work out. He did the right thing! All of those people, were now safe and it filled Cartman with so much relief and happiness. Who would have ever thought.

//

When he spoke of his plan the first time with The Mole, he had suggested that if the plan worked the first time, they would try again. The Mole would phone Cartman, because he was never in the same place, and they would discuss the details of the next incoming train. It was not part of the agreement to discuss how The Mole did his job, just that he made sure it was done.

So here they were again, loading more prisoners onto the train and Cartman hoped it would work a second time. He refused to think negatively, when it came to this mission, he made himself be optimistic.

Days later he got the call that “Dorothy had returned to Kanas.” They had succeeded again.

//

Cartman had received word that on January 16th, the Führer had returned to Berlin and was staying at the New Reich Chancellery. In the month of February, each train that arrived in the camp was driven by The Mole and was successfully rerouted from the death camps, straight into allied territory. Cartman had no idea how The Mole got away each time a train was liberated, but he didn’t need to know so long as the plan worked and he kept coming back.

The news on the radio only continued to grow worse for Germany. The allies were closing in around them and he got word of some camps being liberated. Some soldiers were killed, others taken into custody. Cartman was no fool. He was the Commandant of the camp, if they were liberated, he wouldn’t live through this.

“Mr. Broflovski, a moment please, in my office,” Cartman told the man who was in the middle of dusting the living room. It was the middle of the day, Kyle was out in the camp working, so he knew he wouldn’t overhear him this time.

“Yes sir?” Gerald asked, closing the door behind them. Cartman stood off to the side, with his arms crossed, facing Gerald, determination burning in his eyes.

“Let it be established right now that I do not wish to argue nor do I wish to start a long conversation over this. I will be blunt Mr. Broflovski, Germany is losing the war and it will be over soon, perhaps in a matter of weeks. Many camps have already been liberated,” he informed Gerald, sounding indifferent.

“If I may say so sir, I think that’s wonderful news.” Cartman smiled, almost laughed even.

“Of course it is. However, with that said. Mr. Broflovski, as you know, I’m the Commandant. I’m responsible for this camp. Do you know what that means Mr. Broflovski?” Gerald remained quiet, with a quizzical look on his face, but after a moment he put it together. “That’s right, there is no way I’m making it out of here alive. I know you’ll protect Kyle and be there for him, so asking you to do so is a mute point. So rather, my request to you Mr. Broflovski.” He paused and met Gerald’s eyes, his amber were filled with a seriousness, but also sadness, maybe even regret. “Don’t let Kyle watch, please. Do all you can to get him away,” he begged and he wasn’t ashamed to. He knew Kyle, he knew he would fight, but he didn’t want him hurt and he didn’t want him to see Cartman face his death. “Can you do that Mr. Broflovski?”

“You have my word,” Gerald assured the Commandant, who lowered his shoulders in relief.

“Thank you, you may go,” Cartman ordered, moving around his desk to sit behind it. Gerald turned to leave, but when he reached the door knob he turned back to Cartman.

“I want you to know, I would have welcomed you as my son-in-law.” And then he left before Cartman could answer. Not that he could, he was in too much shock.

//

The end was coming, Cartman could sense it, he didn’t know how, but he did. Very soon the camp would be liberated and the remaining prisoners who didn’t make it out on the trains would be free. Kyle and his family would be free, but Cartman knew he wouldn’t. He was going to be killed for his crimes, why shouldn’t he be? Just because he’s done a few good deeds doesn’t erase the years of bad he’s done. Karma was coming for him, and he hoped it was in the form of a bullet. Quick and painless, that’s what he wanted. As if he could choose.

In the early hours, before the sun was to rise, Cartman woke up from a restless sleep. He smiled down at his lover next to him, who was wearing one of his pajama shirts that was much too big for him. Kyle stirred next to him as if he sensed that his lover was awake. “What’s wrong Eric?” he asked in concern. Cartman simply smiled and caressed Kyle’s cheek.

“Nothing Kyle, really,” he tried to assure him, but he knew Kyle wouldn’t buy it.

“Try again fatass,” Kyle said resting up on his elbow, looking up at Cartman with tired eyes. 

“Dance with me, Kyle.” Kyle was taken aback. 

“This early? You can’t be serious fatass,” Kyle said in disbelief, then yawned loudly. 

“Oh I’m seriously Kahl, please. Dance with me.” He wanted to add, _this last time_ , but he wasn’t about to. Something told Cartman that this would be the last night he had with Kyle, and he wanted to spend their last moments together doing the one thing that brought them together. Dancing. 

As if he sensed the distress in Cartman, he obliged him and they both got off the bed. They met at the foot of the bed, in the center of Cartman’s room, and came together. They stood close, arm around each other’s hip, the other hand laced together in the air, and they slow danced together in silence. The dance wasn’t technical, just simple swaying and Cartman wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“I was just thinking, when the war is over, I’d like to see you dance. You said you went to contests, could I come and watch you?” He had to say something positive, he didn’t want to talk or even think about dying with Kyle here with him. 

“It would mean so much to me to have you there,” Kyle said bringing his head out of the crook of Cartman’s neck so he could see the smile that spread across his face. 

“Good.” And then he pulled Kyle closer against him, wrapping both arms securely around his body. “I love you Kyle, I love you so much more than you could ever know.”

“Eric-”

“Please Kyle. Just this once, shut your mouth.” And Kyle did, locking his arms under Cartman’s so his hands could rest on the back of his shoulders. If this really was to be the last moment he had with Kyle, he didn’t want to spend it arguing or talking about anything depressing. He wanted Kyle to know just how much he loved him, how much he changed him for the better. He couldn’t welcome death if Kyle didn’t know or feel it.

“I love you too, Eric.” They continued to dance, to sway together, and Cartman made sure to etch this moment into his memory so even in death he would remember dancing and loving Kyle Broflovski. 

//

 _March 30th, 1945_  
The camp was liberated.  
It was chaos and hysteria the likes of which Cartman had never seen. Not during the raids, not even when the fire happened. This was worse. He almost couldn’t tell where his soldiers began and the allied soldiers ended. He heard Kyle screaming for him, but he wouldn’t go to him. Gerald had to keep his word to keep Kyle safe and away from him.

Many of his soldiers were fighting against the allies, as a result guns were fired. Any soldier putting up resistance was shot on sight, but that didn’t mean some allied soldiers weren’t shot in the process. There was death all around him. During the skirmish between soldiers, more allied soldiers were leading prisoners out of the camp, but not all the prisoners wanted to immediately leave. Some wanted to fight the soldiers who held them captive and who could blame them.

Suddenly there was a man speaking through a megaphone, in German, standing on the platform with the gallows behind him. “Who is in charge of this camp? Come up here now!” The man wasn’t German, but he could speak it.

Cartman bent his arms at the elbow to show that he wasn’t about to fight as he stepped through the crowd. Many of the prisoners shoved him forward, some even spit on him; he deserved it. When he entered the front of the crowd, Craig came forward and stood at his side, holding his hands up in surrender as well. He wished Craig would have stayed back, but he was touched that he was at his side.

The Commandant and First Lieutenant made their way up to the podium. “On your knees, facing the crowd,” the man ordered, pointing his gun straight at them both and followed them with the gun as they moved to kneel in front of them. A public execution? How lovely. He was just blessed Kyle wasn’t around to see it.

“Wait stop!” Kyle. Kyle?! Cartman snapped his head up and looked towards the crowd. Kyle was pushing his way through and he could see Gerald running behind him with Tweek and Ike at his side; clearly he had gotten away from him. “You can’t shoot them!” Kyle screamed at the front of the crowd. The allied soldiers looked around each other, they couldn’t understand him, only the man holding the gun pointing at them could understand him.

“Are you mad kid? These men are the reason you’re in this camp! Think of what they put you through! Think of all the death they caused! They deserve to die! They are monsters!” That last word made Cartman wince, it had always been a trigger for him.

Cartman met his gaze, his amber eyes pleading, begging as if saying _No gay speeches Kahl!_ But Kyle, tears formed in his eyes, shook his head and looked back at the soldier behind them.

“There has been enough death here. Don’t add them to the body count. Don’t be like them, spare them. Let them stand trial, let them face their crimes and let them live with them!”

It was as though the world stopped, everything and everyone went silent. Had Kyle really gotten to him? Would he and Craig actually make it out of this? Cartman looked again to Kyle, he saw his beautiful smile, and that was when the gun went off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I sound like a broken record, but again I'm sorry this is late. Life.  
> Posted this in time for Kyman Week! Happy Kyman week you guys!  
> I hope you guys enjoy this one and let me know what you think. Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and left kudos and who have stuck by me even though updates aren't regular. I love you guys.  
> I want to give a shout out to my husband, tomorrow will be 9 years that we've been together and I am so thankful he supports me every day with my writing. I love you babe.


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